


Cruel World

by WildBlueSonderling



Series: Celestial Warriors [3]
Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Dragon Ball
Genre: Action & Romance, Aliens, Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Battle Couple, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildBlueSonderling/pseuds/WildBlueSonderling
Summary: So precious to lose, impossible to hold when you are worlds away.
Relationships: Aino Minako/Turles (Dragon Ball), Hino Rei/Raditz (Dragon Ball), Kaiou Michiru/Tenoh Haruka, Kino Makoto/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Mizuno Ami/Tarble, Tomoe Hotaru/Broly, Tsukino Usagi/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Series: Celestial Warriors [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/74623
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Safe from Harm

**Author's Note:**

> This xover is now part of my Celestial Warriors 'verse because it's my canon divergence and I do what I want! Although currently slotted as part three, this is an AU of an AU and does not fall within any sort of canon. It just exists because I like Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball and I think the universes merge together well. Updates will be sporadic but I hope you enjoy reading whatever's here.

Everything was on fire.

He looked out a palace window and saw red. Red flames engulfing the buildings, the fields, the sky. Red blood staining the ground where his people were struck down, or raining upon the heads of kin if they had been airborne when the assault began. Red missiles laying waste to the city, firing with gleeful abandon. Red anger clouding his vision, spurring him into action.

But it was too late to rally their forces; most of them were already dead or dying. If there had been any indication of an attack, they could have presented a united front. They would have stood a chance against this foe, beings who always acted more like falsely-benevolent overlords than business associates despite attempts to define their partnership as such. This senseless slaughter proved they never came within light years of being considered equals.

He wondered what his people did to deserve this; why _now_ of all times? Had they pissed off the Conglomerate? Were the overlords _bored?_ No matter the reason, it infuriated him. Affronted him. Made him want to fight back and survive just to _spite_ them. If he became the last of his kind, he refused to die until removing every trace of them from the universe. Extinction superseded genocide.

“Your Highness, wake up.”

Prince Vegeta’s eyes snapped open, sharp and alert and containing no trace of the memory that resurfaced every time he fell unconscious. “What is it?” he demanded of the woman who’d roused him. Her exasperated sigh made him consider adjusting his attitude. He shouldn’t talk down to the other survivors just because royal blood ran in his veins, as if his title meant anything now.

“You said to inform you if we located the scout ship.” Gine inclined her head toward the exit. “We just picked up its distress signal.”

Vegeta trailed her to the bridge, seeing that his father hadn’t moved from the captain’s seat in several hours. The king appeared haggard but he refused to rest until they found somewhere safe to stay. The best pilot in the army, Bardock, had jumped in a battleship when the attack began and plucked a handful of Saiyans from the jaws of certain death, whisking them off into the unknown reaches of space. No one had any idea where they were now, but the instruments revealed a sun which meant a system with potentially habitable worlds. A junior pilot named Shallot offered to fly the smaller scouting vessel into the solar system to gather data, but communications had abruptly cut off.

Gine, Bardock’s wife and navigator, tracked the distress signal to a gigantic planet the likes of which they’d never seen. It was covered in whorls of white and yellowish clouds as one giant red spot moved across the equator. Even to the naked eye it was obvious that perpetual storms raged on the surface. “Is he really down there?” Bardock groaned, earning a somber nod from Gine. “Shit. Brace yourselves, everyone.” He descended into the atmosphere, fighting an intense magnetic pull. Once through the clouds they flew over an ocean of liquid metal toward a rocky continent. They discovered the wreckage of the scout ship on the far side of some mountains.

“Any trace of the pilot?” King Vegeta inquired.

“I’m starting an area scan.” Gine’s grim expression told him what he didn’t want to hear. “No life signs detected.”

“What about ki?” the prince pressed.

“I don’t sense any Saiyans out there.” Bardock stood and left the controls. “We should recover the body, at least.” Vegeta started after him but he raised a hand. “You should stay, Your Highness. You don’t need to see his mangled corpse.”

Vegeta scoffed. “What’s one more?” Bardock hesitated before opening the main hatch. Howling wind tore at their armor as sleet struck their skin like thousands of tiny, frigid needles. Bolts of white-hot lightning lanced down from the sky every few seconds and constant peals of thunder shook the ground. What a horrid planet.

With arms raised in a futile attempt to shield themselves from the elements, Vegeta and Bardock drifted to the scout ship. A section of silver paneling was blackened with evidence of a fire, but the seat harness was intact and there was no sign of blood or other viscera, so Shallot had probably survived the crash. The vessel’s emergency provisions were still in storage but the pilot was nowhere to be seen or sensed. Had he flown off in search of shelter?

Vegeta ordered Gine to perform a full planetary sweep when he returned to the battleship with her husband. They hovered above the cloudline, waiting anxiously for the results. Gine’s brow rose in surprise. “I’m picking up… _something_ ,” she ineloquently described. “There’s a transmission being emitted from a device in the thermosphere.” She sent the coordinates to Bardock’s console. He tracked the signal to a satellite in the eye of the planet’s red storm, a patch of calm among the chaos. If there was a satellite relaying information, someone intelligent must have put it there in the first place.

No sooner had Bardock exited the atmosphere than several systems suddenly went offline, leaving them dead in space. “What is—” the king started to ask, then a surge of ki shut him up. Outside the viewport, a spark of golden light flickered and brightened to the point of blinding them. When it died down a little, they discerned a silhouette akin to their own. The aura being radiated was immense. “Who _are_ you?” King Vegeta breathed in awe.

“ _I’m_ the one asking the questions here.” The voice was feminine and authoritative. “Are you allies of that creature I rescued from Jupiter?”

“Creature? Jupiter?” Bardock winced as the light intensified in his direction. “Woman, we don’t even know where we are!”

“Hmph. You’re in the solar system known as the Sea of Serenity.” Her intensity faded, collapsing inward to form a solid figure. The young woman cast her crimson gaze about with suspicion. She was tall and leanly muscled, with long hair that transitioned from yellow to amber to red. She wore a golden cuirass, gauntlets, and greaves over a short white dress, and a gold tiara inlaid with multicolored stones adorned her head. “You’re Saiyans, right? You must be. You have tails and wild hair like Shallot.”

“Shallot is alive?!”

She nodded. “Alive and recovering from his accident. His ship was struck by lightning. A vessel that small didn’t stand a chance against Jupiter.”

King Vegeta inched toward her with his hands raised. “You know about us, but with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

She raised an eyebrow at his deferential demeanor. “I’m Sailor Galaxia, the Guardian of Seiun.”

“Seiun?” Gine repeated.

“That’s our name for this galaxy.”

“How can you be the guardian of an entire galaxy?” Bardock questioned.

“I just _am_.”

“And what is your species called, if I may?” the king asked.

“I’m a Human.”

 _Human_. The Saiyans had encountered many alien races throughout their history, but never ones with nearly-identical physical attributes. “You are a guardian, you say? A warrior?” Galaxia nodded again. “Are there other such warriors among your kind?”

“There are eleven celestial guardians in total,” she replied. “One representing each of the nine planets in the Sea, one representing our galaxy, and one representing our section of the universe. She has a more… _ephemeral_ existence than the rest of us.” Galaxia tossed her ombre hair. “But rather than stand around answering your questions, I’ll let our matriarch do it. She’s been anticipating your arrival since Shallot informed us there were others like him.”

Bardock cleared his throat. “Did he tell you why we came here?”

“No, but I recognize a refugee ship when I see one.” With a small smile, Galaxia separated into golden particles that formed a beam pointing at the heart of the solar system. The Saiyans shared incredulous looks. After leaving their own world far behind, had they really encountered benevolent strangers who would accept them without any questions asked?

* * *

Sailor Galaxia assumed her solid form again when the Saiyan battleship touched down on Luna, the Sea’s embassy. There were twelve refugees altogether, too few to save their population and only one female among them besides. After observing their small group, Galaxia deduced they came from a monarchical, militaristic society. The king was easily identified by his cape and ornamental jewelry. The teenage princes wore ornate armor emblazoned with royal crests. A massive, muscular, bald man had gold stars on his spaulders. The pilot and a slightly-older man wore identical uniforms featuring three chevrons. The woman’s uniform had a single chevron. Two more teenagers had the same rank as Shallot, denoted with one stripe, and a young adult had two stripes, supporting the theory that ranks increased with age and presumably fighting prowess. The last Saiyan to stand before her was another young adult in tattered grey armor with a defaced insignia. Galaxia’s attention lingered on him. “Why is this man in manacles?”

“He is a dissident, Your… Radiance.” King Vegeta received an arched brow for both an explanation and the strange way he addressed her. “His name is Turles. He left our home world a few years ago to engage in piratical endeavors. We discovered him adrift during our journey here. He cannot be trusted, so we kept him restrained.”

“Piracy, hmm?” Galaxia wrinkled her nose at his unkempt appearance while he glowered in response. “Our policy is to rehabilitate criminals, not that many arise in our society. You’ll be given the chance to redeem yourself if you want to live freely like everyone else.” Turles said nothing, his gaze falling to the ground after losing their staring contest. Galaxia spun on her heel. “Come on, the queen is waiting to meet you.”

She led the Saiyans into a glimmering crystal castle. Its facets refracted every bit of light, presenting colors they’d never seen before. “Beautiful…” the younger prince, Tarble, murmured. He referred to their surroundings as well as the other Humans they passed. They showcased a genetic kaleidoscope, each possessing a different body type, facial structure, skin tone, eye color, hair color and texture than the last. These people were fascinating to a species as homogenized as the Saiyans. But after observing two-dozen or so, it became evident that Galaxia was unique even by their standards. Guardians were a _special_ variety of Human.

Upon entering a grand hall where stained glass windows cast a scintillating mosaic across the floor, the Saiyans were approached by the most attractive Human they’d yet seen, a woman whose aura washed over them like a gentle breeze. Her skin was as ivory, her hair white as snow, and her eyes a precious silver. “Be at peace, wanderers.” Her smile felt like a blessing. “You are safe now. I am Queen Serenity Selas, the White Lady of Luna. May I have your names?”

“Your Majesty.” The king went to one knee and his brethren followed suit. “I am King Vegeta the Third of… formerly of Vegetasei and Sadala. These are my sons, Tarble and Vegeta the Fourth.” They all stood again, the motion practiced. “This is General Nappa of the… defunct Saiyan army.” Gods, these were the worst introductions he’d ever given. “This is Commander Bardock, Commandant Gine, and their sons Kakarot and Raditz.” Galaxia tried not to reveal her shock that a whole family had survived whatever atrocity they fled from. “These two are Commander Paragus and his son Broly.” They ducked their chins, curt. “And this is Turles, a renegade we _generously_ decided to accept into our midst.” Turles scoffed quietly.

The queen curtsied. “Well met. I will not inquire about the circumstances that led you here– that is your story to share when you are ready. It would be my pleasure to offer you new homes among any of our worlds. Allow me to tell you about them.” She gestured with the staff in her grip and it projected a holographic model of the solar system. “Within the Sea of Serenity, there are nine planets and many moons on which you may reside. Our sun is called Helios. The planet nearest it is Mercury, which has an artificial satellite called Mariner. The Guardian of Ice and Wisdom lives there. Her people are renowned for their brilliance in the fields of medicine and technology– the one named Shallot is currently in their care. The Mercurians would be thrilled to have you, although you may find their curiosity too much to suffer.”

“Sounds like an interesting place,” Tarble said, eliciting some snide glances. His preference for studying xenology in lieu of honing his fighting talents made him a bit of an outcast on their old worlds.

“Next is Venus. It is a lovely planet rich in minerals of all kinds, and its people enjoy nothing more than spreading their wealth. The Venusians possess discerning tastes and may not be the most willing to serve you right away, so I suspect you will have to prove your value to be granted a place in their decadent society. They too have an artificial satellite, Magellan, which is home to the Guardian of Love and Beauty. If your pastimes include indulging in sensory delights, this may be the place to consider.”

“Can I indulge in that Guardian of Love and Beauty?” Raditz leered, earning a ki zap on the tail from his mother. “Oww!”

The queen ignored his comment. “Terra is often called Venus’ twin, but it is by far the most diverse planet in our system. It has varied environments, weather, flora and fauna. The Terrans lead an idyllic, peaceful lifestyle in conjunction with nature. It also hosts the secondary seat of power, occupied by King Aethlios and Prince Endymion. The people are amicable and easygoing, and you could spend all your years there without eating the same thing twice as it is a cornucopia of culinary innovation.”

“Could use something good to eat…” Turles mumbled.

“Mars is the last planet among the interior of the Sea. The Martians are warriors who pride themselves on physical strength, endurance, and combat prowess. Metallurgy and smithing are practiced in abundance. Their planet is wanting for resources other than metal, however, and internal conflicts often arise. They have two natural moons, Phobos and Deimos. The Guardian of Fire and Passion utilizes both– one hosts her personal residence and the other hosts a sacred temple. That guardian is something of a recluse, so do not expect a personal welcome.”

Nappa looked to his liege. “Perhaps you and I could visit Mars, compare their fighting techniques to our own.” The king hummed at the suggestion.

“In the outer limits we first have Jupiter, the largest planet in the Sea hosting equally large moons– the one called Ganymede is even bigger than Mercury. I am positive you will find solace there, for the Jovians are accepting of all peoples. The blending of cultures has led to a system in which trading and bartering for goods and services is typical. Most of the populace is concentrated on the Galilean moons of Ganymede, Callisto, Europa, and Io. The last is home to the Guardian of Thunder and Courage.”

Paragus turned to his son. “What do you think, Broly? The moons of Jupiter sound intriguing.” The boy shrugged. Anywhere was better than the cramped cabin he shared with Kakarot.

“We move on to Saturn, a planet with distinct icy rings. It has over eighty moons to explore. However, the one called Titan is off-limits to everyone save the Guardian of Silence and Destruction. She is the youngest of our celestial warriors and is still learning to harness her abilities, but the other moons such as Enceladus, Mimas, Rhea, Dione, and Tethys are fully accommodating. The Saturnians are divided into two factions. The Keepers chronicle history so that we may better understand our present, and they have a rather humanitarian outlook on life. The Heralds seek to unravel the mysteries of the universe and use their discoveries to implement technologies that will ensure our survival. If you have ever entertained existential, philosophical notions, Saturn would be happy to host you.”

Queen Serenity adjusted the projection so that it zoomed in on the three outermost planets. “Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto are grouped together because they exist on the fringes of our civilization, though they are no less civilized. Neptune and its moons are tropical paradises, but those people value hard work and will not tolerate apathy. The Guardian of the Depths watches over that region from her palace on Triton. Uranus is an ice giant with an unusual rotation affecting its citizens– the people are artistic and eccentric in nature. The Guardian of the Heavens, located on Miranda, is a warrior of renown who loves a good challenge, so consider seeking her out for the chance to earn a favor.” Kakarot perked up at that. Most of this information went in one ear and right out the other, but the promise of a good fight piqued his interest. “Last is Pluto, the harshest world on the very edge of the Sea. It is dark and cold, and the people are intrepid explorers delving into the farthest reaches of our galactic arm. One must be able to fend for themselves to fit in with the Plutonians. You will not receive any handouts from the Guardian of Time on Charon, but if you desire fame and glory, consider making your way there.”

When she finished expositing, the Saiyans looked a little overwhelmed. There was no way they could choose where to go just yet but thankfully they didn’t have to. “As new arrivals, you may spend up to five days in the embassy,” the queen went on, “but you _must_ file for citizenship with one of the planets by the end of that period. I should clarify that you will not be bound to that world exclusively– all residents of the Sea may travel freely once they are registered. Most refugees like to visit each planet before making their decision. We utilize portal technology for instantaneous travel, and you will find Luna’s portal by following those signs.” She gestured to a circular symbol at a junction. “If you have further questions, do not hesitate to broach them. Any staff members will happily assist you. With that, I bid you all a good afternoon.” Queen Serenity curtsied again and sashayed out of the hall, vanishing through a crystal arch.

Galaxia sighed and forced a smile. The queen was sweet as honey but she had a tendency to ramble. “If there’s anything you need to retrieve from your ship, go get it. Otherwise I’ll show you to your quarters.” The Saiyans had little to no personal effects since they had fled for their lives. “Here in the temporary residence wing, you have access to dining, clothing, and technology facilities. I should hope the first two are self-explanatory, and the last is where you can work with engineers to recreate tech you might have lost. Feel free to request anything you want.” She heaved another sigh. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to my duties.”

“Wait!” King Vegeta reached for her as she turned translucent, pausing in a state between solid and ethereal. “Where is Shallot, exactly?”

“He’s on Mercury, like the queen said, at Hermai Hospital,” Galaxia answered, and phased out of sight.

The king headed for a portal symbol. “I’ll go with you,” Vegeta offered.

“No, you stay here. Shallot’s well-being is my responsibility.” He ignored the slight scowl from the boy. A few days ago, the only Saiyans King Vegeta had been personally acquainted with were his sons and Nappa, but now that they were an endangered species he considered them all family. They had to stay together, share information with each other, and figure out exactly who they could trust. Starting a new life in the Sea of Serenity sounded ideal; then again, partnering with the Frieza seemed ideal back in the day. It was because of his unwillingness to alter the status quo that there were only twelve Saiyans left, and the king wasn’t going to make any decisions lightly at the risk of further reducing that number. “I’ll be back soon,” he reassured his heir. “Rest, relax, eat well. The gods know you deserve a moment of peace.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Bardock grinned. “C’mon, boys. Let’s see what this place has to offer.” He wrapped an arm around Gine’s shoulders as their tails entwined, the family wandering off. Everyone else except Tarble, Vegeta, and Turles trailed them after a beat.

Turles proffered his bound wrists. “Can I get that key now, Majesty? I’m sure these people will wonder why you’re keeping me restrained like some criminal.”

“You _are_ a criminal.” Nonetheless, King Vegeta unlocked the manacles. Turles rubbed his reddened wrists, smirking. “You’d better not disgrace us.”

“A disgrace? _Me?_ ” His smirk widened. “I’ll have you know there were at least five planets who offered me sanctuary when the Frieza decided to kill us off. I made friends with some _very_ powerful and important individuals in our system, but you refused to listen when I suggested you turn back.”

“Our life here will be better than anything your _friends_ could provide,” the king retorted, yet his words lacked conviction. He _wanted_ to believe the Saiyans could live out the rest of their days in peace. He _wanted_ to believe the “Sea of Serenity” had been aptly named. He _wanted_ to believe there were alien races as generous as this one… But he had learned a harsh lesson much too late: people were not always who they presented themselves to be. There was a possibility the Saiyans would be deceived again and the Humans would stab them in the back, literally, leaving them nothing more than a footnote in history books as an extinct species.

Still, he dared to hope that these worlds would be their salvation as well as his chance to redeem himself.

* * *

Vegeta initially determined to learn the layout of the embassy, but everything appeared the same after a while and its endless crystalline facets made it impossible to tell which direction he’d come from, so he resorted to following signs to the clothing facility. A boy about his age waved at him, yet the friendly gesture wasn’t what prompted him to approach. The Human had golden hair and blue eyes. When Saiyans exhibited those features it meant they had ascended to a more powerful state, gaining better control over their ki. “Hey there!” the boy beamed. “Haven’t seen you before. Did you just arrive on Luna?”

“Yes…” Vegeta replied, trying and failing not to stare.

“Awesome! What part of the galaxy did you come from? Perseus? Norma?”

He’d heard of neither. “I’m not sure. Where are we in relation to those places?”

“The Sea of Serenity is in the Orion-Cygnus arm.” The boy’s bright eyes widened. “Wait, are you from the other side of the galactic core? Did you come from the _shadow?_ ”

If Vegeta answered yes, would he fawn over him even more? He couldn’t lie in good conscience. “I think… we came from the southeast.”

“Ooh, the Carina-Sagittarius arm.” His head bobbed matter-of-factly. “That’s a long way away! What’s your system like? Are you the only sapient lifeforms?”

“Do you ask everyone these questions?” the prince returned.

“Well, yeah.” The boy’s laugh sounded so carefree and genuine. “It’s always exciting to learn where people come from. What’s your species called, anyway?”

Vegeta puffed out his chest, standing as tall as his short stature allowed. “I’m a Saiyan.”

 _“Saiyan.”_ He leaned sideways. “You have a tail.”

“Yes, we have tails.”

“Is it prehensile?” Vegeta didn’t know that word. “Can you control it like an extra limb?” He demonstrated its maneuverability by removing a hanger from a rack. “That’s _so_ cool,” the boy gushed. “We’ve only met one other species with tails, the Mautians. Their fur fluffs up when they get angry. Not exactly intimidating.” Vegeta snickered; Saiyans _were_ intimidating when they got angry. “So, were you looking for something to replace that stuffy armor?” The prince examined himself. “It’s not like you need it anymore, right? Armor is for fighting in.”

The boy had a point. There were no enemies to fight here, at least not yet. Vegeta frowned at his own pessimism. He didn’t plan on starting conflicts with anybody, but just in case one arose, or in case the Frieza tracked them down… They wouldn’t go so far, would they? They knew they had won. It wasn’t like the Saiyan race was going to recover with twelve members, not without inbreeding. _Gross_. “I suppose I don’t—” he started to say, but then the boy called out to someone else.

“Hey, Bunny! Over here! Look, there’s a new species in the Sea!”

Vegeta rotated to see who the dainty footfalls belonged to, his breath catching. A moment ago, Queen Serenity had been the most beautiful being he ever laid eyes on. The girl he now faced was an even prettier version of her. She wore the same hairstyle, twin buns with long strands nearly reaching the floor, but her locks were pale blonde instead of white. Her dress was also similar, a semi-sheer white garment with puffed sleeves and gold trim on the strapless bodice. Her stunning blue irises threatened to drown him the longer he gazed into them. And her lips… oh, they existed to be kissed. Once oxygen began flowing to his brain again, Vegeta realized that this girl had an aura akin to Galaxia’s, although she was not actively exuding it to intimidate him. “Are you a guardian?” he blurted.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I am. My name is Usagi and I’m the princess of Luna. And you are?”

“Usagi…” he echoed. It almost rolled off the tongue. He bowed at the waist. “Vegeta. Prince Vegeta the Fourth of… Vegetasei and Sadala.” He made the same mistake as his father by announcing his title like it carried weight. There was no more Vegetasei or Sadala.

Usagi gave a graceful curtsy. “Nice to meet you, Prince Vegeta the Fourth of Vegetasei and Sadala. Did you speak with my mother already?”

“Yes.” He sounded like a robot, stiff and cold even though his face was burning.

“Be at peace, then.” She gestured to the racks behind him. “Were you interested in new clothes?”

Vegeta forgot he’d only wandered over because of the blond boy, but now there was a boy _and_ a girl vying for attention and he didn’t know which to focus on. Yet the more he compared the two, the more physical similarities he noticed. “Are you related?”

“Yeah, she’s my older sister,” the boy explained. “Oh, and my name’s Shingo.”

Usagi. Shingo. Such strange names, but his probably seemed strange to them as well. “Do you… think I _need_ new clothes?” he queried.

Shingo said “yes” and Usagi said “no”, so Vegeta just stood there. Then the latter circled him. “What’s this armor made of? It’s elastic yet hard. I’ve never seen such a thing.”

“It’s… standard-issue Frieza combat gear.” Gods, they were going to consider him daft if he kept talking like that.

“What’s a Frieza?”

The query restored some rationality and rage. “The _Frieza_ are the race that killed off my people,” Vegeta bit out. “We used to work with them… or for them, really.”

“What kind of work?”

“They were… _are…_ galactic conquerors.” The siblings were taken aback, so he provided an even more watered-down explanation _._ “We used to help them keep the peace on certain planets where uprisings might have occurred.”

“So you Saiyans are like thugs,” Shingo deduced, “hired muscle.” He didn’t sound scathing, but certainly judgmental.

Vegeta hung his head. Now that his entire perspective had shifted and he had time to reflect on the actions of his people, he realized their history was littered with villainy. When the two species first met, the Frieza saw the Saiyans’ potential for violence and made them an offer: serve and they wouldn’t be subjugated. So they served, obeyed orders without question, condoned the Frieza’s awful deeds as they ventured from planet to planet enslaving races and usurping resources, selling off their ill-gotten gains to anyone who could give them even more power and prestige. The lucrative partnership made the Saiyans rich in the galactic credit system, and being able to buy anything they wanted was enough for them not to question the morality of their arrangement.

But what had their obedience yielded? What had the Saiyans gained after three generations of faithful service?

Nothing. They had literally _nothing_ to show for their efforts. The one thing they’d been allowed to retain, their home world, was taken away like those of all the other conquered races. Not just stolen, _obliterated_. The Saiyans were pets with long leashes and shiny collars around their necks, kept complacent and pampered until the Frieza decided they couldn’t be suffered to exist any longer.

“Did these Frieza turn on you?” Usagi guessed. The helplessness on Vegeta’s visage made her heart ache. Saiyans were not the first victims of genocide she’d met, and they wouldn’t be the last in her lifetime.

“Yes…” the prince spoke in a solemn tone, “they betrayed us and killed everyone. _Almost_ everyone,” he amended.

She reached for his hand. The gesture of sympathy was so unexpected that he recoiled, but the princess wasn’t offended. “You’re not the only species to come here under such circumstances.”

He dared to look her in the eye. “We’re not?”

“No. Over in the Scutum-Centaurus arm of Seiun, there’s a solar system called Tankei that’s been fending off a coalition of rogue celestial bodies known as Shadow Galactica since before I was born. When my mother became queen, she opened the borders of our system to emigrants from Tankei. My generation was the first to grow up alongside people from Mau, Cocoon, Coronis, Kinmoku, Ginnan, and Makaiju… and if you ask me, the Sea became a better place to live thanks to them.” Usagi sighed. “Unfortunately, Shadow Galactica has grown stronger, the alliance weaker, and the number of refugees from Tankei increased from a trickle to a steady stream over the past year, since I received my guardian crystal.”

“What’s a guardian crystal?” Vegeta inquired. What exactly did it mean to be a guardian, a _celestial_ warrior? How were they different from warriors like him?

Usagi smiled kindly, drew her hand to her chest, and closed her eyes. Shingo winked at the Saiyan and also shut his eyes. Before Vegeta could think to do the same, white light lanced between her fingers and blinded him. He blinked rapidly to clear the moats from his vision, and when he could see again, his jaw dropped at the sight he beheld. Usagi’s aura had been condensed into the clear flower-shaped crystal hovering in her palm, a tangible manifestation of her ki. And she had a _lot_ of it, maybe even more than his father. Vegeta had never met anyone stronger than his father until today.

“This is the Ginzuishou,” Usagi said. “All the guardians have special crystals like this, but mine is the only one with a name.”

“Ginzuishou…” The more words he tried in their language, the easier it became to speak. “What does it mean?”

“‘Silver good omen’,” she answered. “This crystal is unique because it is empowered by the faith of everyone residing in the Sea of Serenity. Guardians are supposed to be the personification of one element and one aspect.” She blushed, then. “My full title is Princess Usagi Serena, Silver Lady of Luna, the Guardian of Crystal and Hope.”

“Bit of a mouthful, if you ask me,” Shingo put in.

Usagi tittered, a spritely sound. “It really is. If I’m allowed to call you ‘Vegeta’ instead of ‘Prince Vegeta the Fourth of Vegetasei and Sadala’, you can just call me ‘Usagi’. Nobody has time for the rest.”

Vegeta did. He had all the time in the universe to bask in her radiance. At least, he did until Tarble came looking for him. Usagi stowed her crystal upon sensing his approach. She didn’t reveal it to just anyone. “There you are, Brother.” The younger Saiyan left a healthy distance between himself and the Lunarians. “Who are you talking to?”

“This is Princess Usagi and, err… Prince Shingo? Of Luna.”

Shingo barked a laugh. “Me, a prince?! We’re _half_ siblings, Highness. Same father, but my mother is a Terran.”

“Oh.” Vegeta flushed. “I only assumed…”

Tarble studied their interaction. His sibling was the crown prince of Vegetasei, the pride of their people, and their father’s favorite. He was strong, cunning, articulate, stoic… Tarble had never seen him _blush_ before. “You shouldn’t make assumptions, Brother. Especially when we know next to nothing about this system.”

“I _know_ that,” Vegeta asserted in an attempt to save face, “but they look exactly the same. It was a logical assumption.”

“We won’t hold it against you,” Shingo said. “Now, to return to the reason why _I_ assumed you came here in the first place… Would you like some threads?”

The clothes did look nice, and it was probably best for the Saiyans to ditch their Frieza-issued armor as soon as possible. “How much does it cost?” Tarble questioned. “Do you take galactic credits?”

The brother and sister laughed again but not in a mean-spirited way. “Our economic model is as simple as it gets. If you want something, you can have it.”

“That seems unreasonable. You can’t just give away things for _free_.”

“We can, and we do.” Usagi said. “It works because people take only what they need. No more, no less. That way there’s enough for everyone.”

“But who makes the clothes?” Tarble pressed. “How are they compensated for their labor?”

Shingo held up an informative finger. “ _I_ made these clothes. I get compensated when a farmer buys seasonal workwear to manage his crops. I clothe him and he feeds me. Simple.”

“It _can’t_ be that simple,” Tarble insisted, “but fine, I accept your offer.” He wriggled out of his fitted chestpiece and dropped it on the floor.

 _“Tarble.”_ Vegeta gave him a stern look that he ignored, listening to Shingo info-dump about Lunarian fashion. The boy clearly had a passion for his craft.

Usagi giggled. “It’s okay, we just recycle unwanted materials. Would you like an outfit as well?” Vegeta wandered into the racks with her. She hemmed and hawed, holding garments against his rather muscular build. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you and your brother?”

“I’ve seen fifteen summers,” Vegeta replied. “Thirteen with Tarble.”

She squinted in concentration. “So we’re _basically_ the same age, although I guess it depends how long it takes for your planet to orbit the sun.”

“Three-hundred and eighty days,” he provided, “and we have two suns.”

“Ooh, a _binary_ system? That’s exciting.” Usagi held up a tunic that almost matched her eyes. “I think this color would look good on you. What do you think?”

Vegeta brushed the fabric. “It’s soft.”

“Mhm. Lunarian silk is difficult to work with but Shingo’s a really skilled weaver. Want to try it on?” He answered by tugging on specific points of his armor to loosen it. The sectioned plates were a burnished blue, the seams gold, and underneath was a long-sleeved, skin-tight grey shirt resembling carbon fiber weave. Vegeta didn’t flinch when Usagi touched his arm this time. “These materials are so interesting. They should be sent to Mercury for analysis, see if we can adapt them for… oh, unless… Would that be weird?”

“How so?”

She fidgeted. “I mean, would it make your people feel uncomfortable if we repurposed something that’s kind of, you know… a symbol of oppression?”

The prince considered his armor. Every Saiyan wore the same plated chestpiece; some, like Bardock and Gine, removed the spaulders for more flexibility. A tasset protected vital organs in the lower abdomen. There was a choice between gloves or bracers; Vegeta and Tarble wore the former because their father did. The boots were knee-high and featured hard caps, but almost everyone cut them off because they were too bulky, Shallot being an exception. Beneath the armor was a plain shirt in a long sleeve, short sleeve, or sleeveless cut, and plain pants in long, three-quarter, or short length. Black and grey were the only color options. The lower layers were extremely close-fitting to function like tourniquets in case of injury, staunching blood flow to open wounds and preventing poisons from spreading. That was assuming anything made it through their ki shields.

The Frieza had labored for _years_ to create combat attire with durability to match the Saiyans’ endurance. As Vegeta’s grandmother had recounted, it wasn’t uncommon for warriors to end up partially nude in battle as their armor disintegrated around them. That made Vegeta wonder if the Frieza developed their biomechanical suits to protect themselves from ki. But what did they have to fear? It wasn’t as if the Saiyans ever entertained the idea of revolting.

Unless somebody _did_ , and the Frieza caught wind of it, and _that’s_ why they committed genocide, to show the other slave races what happened when they thought about trying to reclaim what was rightfully theirs… 

“Vegeta?” He snapped back to the present to find Usagi regarding him with concern. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if that was insensitive.”

He shook his head once. “You’re wrong– our armor isn’t a symbol of oppression. It’s a symbol of Saiyan strength, strength the Frieza feared and tried to suppress.”

She smiled a little. “So does that mean we can have it?”

Vegeta unfastened his tasset, yanked off his gloves, and kicked off his boots. Usagi blinked at the pile at her feet. “Take it all, give it to your engineers. I want them to use these pieces to create something even stronger. And I’ll get the others to send you their armor, too.”

“Oh… okay, great!” She looked sheepish. “But you don’t need to give it to me _personally_. Just take it to the recycling center and put it in the bin for Mercury.”

“All right,” he agreed, blushing again. There was a lot to learn about living in the Sea of Serenity.


	2. Lost

_Fwoosh_ , the door opened. _Shoof_ , the door closed. Over and over, all day, doctors and scientists coming and going. Or was it nighttime now? Shallot couldn’t tell since his hospital room had no windows, only holographic walls that kept cycling through alien landscapes. At least most of them were pretty: lush green fields, snow-capped mountains, rivers winding through forests, and even an environment that resembled his home world, Sadala.

 _Fwoosh_. Shallot had taken to ignoring his visitors since he wasn’t in the mood to answer any more questions, but his attention snapped to the girl just before she set foot in the room. “Hello,” she greeted in a pleasant tone, “I’m Sailor Mercury, the guardian of this planet. Your name is Shallot, right? How are you feeling?”

Her eyes were like miniature oceans, their calm and gentle surface belying the depths of her true power. She had short, sleek dark hair and very fair skin with some freckles dotting her nose. “You have strong energy,” Shallot remarked. He would’ve sensed her coming from farther away if he weren’t so anxious and irritated.

Mercury’s beestung lips turned up in a smile. “Your species senses auras, does it?” He nodded, watching her keenly as she came closer. Her pale blue dress glistened with every step, like frost. “I can read your aura, too.”

“Oh really?” he sneered. “What does it tell you about me?”

“That you’re more hurt than you let on, but not in a physical way. You suffered a blow to your pride.” Shallot turned, grumbling. “I wanted you to know that Galaxia led your people to safety.”

“They’re okay? They didn’t get sucked into that awful planet?”

She laughed a little. “Sailor Jupiter would hate to hear you refer to it as such. But yes, the Saiyans are just fine. They’re at the embassy on Luna.”

“Good…” Shallot exhaled in relief. He never would’ve forgiven himself if something happened to them while searching for him. He wasn’t worth a rescue attempt. “When can I leave this place?”

“When your skin is done healing,” Mercury answered. “You should be thankful you even survived a Jovian lightning strike.” She reached for his scarred shoulder. Shallot jerked away, she pursed her pretty lips, and he felt bad enough that he deigned to let her touch him, her fingers cool on his angry flesh. “I’m glad our salves are compatible with your biology. Your dermal layers should finish regenerating within the hour.”

“Good. Can I recover _alone_ , then?”

Mercury was nonplussed by his attitude. “I also wanted to apologize for the inquisition my people put you through. They always get excited when we encounter new lifeforms, and you do appear _quite_ similar to Humans on a genetic level.” She paused. “Is it possible you would let us analyze a blood sample, sequence your genome?”

Shallot frowned. “You can’t have my blood.”

“Very well.” She paused again at the door. “If you feel comfortable in a tropical biome, you should consider the Indonesian rainforest of Terra. That’s where these images were taken.” Shallot only grunted, but the simulated environment did make him feel marginally better. _Shoof_ , the guardian left him alone. His keen ears still heard her. “Oh, another Saiyan! Are you here for Shallot?”

“Yes. I was informed he received treatment at this medical facility.” Shallot’s stomach clenched. That was the baritone voice of his liege.

“He’s just through there.” _Fwoosh_ , King Vegeta strode in. Behind him, Mercury wore an expression that said she’d learn all there was to know about them in due time.

“Y-Your Majesty…” Shallot stammered, “I’m sorry, I failed you—”

The king raised a hand and he fell silent, peering upward through wide eyes. Much to Shallot’s shock, he knelt at his bedside and surprised him further by giving him a consoling pat on the head. “I am the one who should apologize,” King Vegeta spoke. “I’m the one who wasn’t strong enough to defend our people in their greatest hour of need. I’m the reason why we had to flee to this solar system like… like rodents fleeing an exterminator.” Shallot couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I shouldn’t have let you fly the scout ship through an unknown region of space. I will _never_ put you in a situation like that again.”

“But I… I volunteered,” Shallot pointed out. “I wanted to find a world we could land on and be safe, but when I flew near that huge planet it pulled me in and the thrusters weren’t powerful enough to escape.” He dared to meet the king’s gaze. “While the ship was going down, I kept hoping you wouldn’t follow me because I didn’t want the rest of you to die. I didn’t want that… that _shitty_ , stormy planet to drag everyone else down, too.”

King Vegeta cracked a smile. Bardock was Shallot’s commander and must have imparted his affinity for that particular curse word. “That shitty planet is called Jupiter. It’s one of the worlds the queen of this system said we could live on.”

“No thanks,” the boy grumbled, “I’d rather go anywhere but there again.”

“I can’t say I disagree with you.” The king moved to a nearby chair that was a bit too small for him. “I’m going to stay with you until these Mercurian doctors say you’ve recovered.”

“Your Majesty, no, I…” The king of the Saiyans shouldn’t be personally attending him like he was his _family_ or something. “I know you have better things to do! What about the others? They need your guidance!”

He shook his head. “They received guidance from the queen herself. Have the Mercurians told you anything about living in this system?”

Shallot scratched at his blistered skin. He tried holding off so as not to appear uncouth, but it tingled like crazy. The salve only served to remove his lightning scar, not alleviate the itching. “Not really. They want me to stay here so they can run all kinds of tests on me.”

“I see. Allow me to share what I’ve learned…”

A couple minutes later, Shallot had been brought up to speed. “So all I have to do is pick a place to live and register as a citizen?” He mulled it over. “Sounds too easy.”

The king sighed, relaxing. “I’m beginning to see that this society is vastly different than ours. Although it consists of many different races, they seem to live peacefully with each other. I can only hope they’ll be as accepting of us and our ways.”

That made Shallot wonder which aspects of Saiyan culture were worth preserving, if any. There had been feast days, mating rituals, moon festivals and fighting tournaments, not to mention the coming-of-age ceremony which was kind of a big deal. Shallot, Kakarot, Broly, Vegeta and Tarble would fully mature within the next five to six years and the ceremony was supposed to acknowledge them as adults. “Which planet are _you_ considering, Your Majesty?”

“I wish to see them all, but my first instinct was to settle on Terra.” Then Shallot would live there too, to serve his lord and not because Sailor Mercury had suggested it. “I wish to acquaint myself with the ruler of that world as well. He is called Aethlios and he has a son, Endymion.”

Weird names. “But they don’t live on Luna with the queen?” Weird people.

“Evidently not.” The king shrugged. “I’m certain we’ll figure out the politics before long.”

* * *

The food at the embassy’s dining facility was amazing. Bardock, Gine, and their sons had their low expectations blown out of the water by the sheer number of different things to try. The variety of protein alone was staggering, and being able to sample each planet’s cuisine in a single setting was convenient. Better still, the chefs from each of the nine worlds were _thrilled_ to see a brand-new species consume their creations with such gusto, and practically shoved one another aside while bringing out new dishes.

The decadent, luscious, downright delicious cuisine of Venus further convinced Raditz that was the place for him. While their parents went through the portal to Neptune, Raditz dragged his little brother with him to the planet of indulgence where a veritable feast for the senses greeted them. The air was hot and humid as sunlight filtered through billowing clouds in an orange-tinted sky. Precious metals like gold, silver, and platinum lent glimmering fascias to the buildings constructed from marble in an array of colors. The people passing by were dressed in breezy, gossamer garments that revealed more of their bodies than less, but not a single one was unpleasant to look at. A bouquet of sweet, spicy, floral, woody, and musky notes wafted up their noses. Amid all those sensory stimulants was the tinge of a powerful aura that could only belong to the Guardian of Love and Beauty, Sailor Venus. Both Saiyans shared the instinct to gravitate toward it, but one had more reservations than the other.

“I don’t like it here,” Kakarot said, using his brother as a shield. “It’s too loud, too bright, too… _much_.”

Raditz grinned. “Exactly. These people have a lot to go around, so let’s help ourselves.” He started floating down the street, Kakarot following after a moment’s hesitation. They garnered some strange looks, then gathered a mob of gawking Venusians before long.

“Excuse me! You two with the tails!” The brothers rotated to find over fifty people regarding them in wonderment. “Are you _flying?_ ”

“What’s it look like?” Raditz snarked.

Murmurs of intrigue arose. “You’re new to the Sea, aren’t you? What are you called?”

“Saiyans.” The word swept through the crowd like a wave.

A pretty non-Human woman drifted forward. She resembled a butterfly with blue skin, wings, antennae, and powdery scales on her limbs. “Where did you come from? We’ve never seen men like you.”

“Where’re _you_ from?” Kakarot returned, more genuinely curious than rude.

“I’m a Cocoonite, from the Tankei system. My name is Papillon.” She fluttered in a little circle as a greeting, releasing a pleasant scent. “I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to meet another species that can fly! How about I take you on a little tour?”

Emboldened by the positive reception, Raditz pressed up against her and flashed his most charming grin. “You can take me anywhere you want, pretty thing.”

The butterfly woman tittered. “Let’s head skyward.” She lifted into the air, gesturing at the buildings, tents, and awnings below. Numerous plazas were connected by a sprawling maze of avenues and lanes, everything converging at one large park filled with lush grass, sculptures, and a water fountain. “This is the Dawn Souq, the central hub of Venus where you can acquire anything you desire.” She pointed at the eastern horizon. “The Dusk Souq lies on the other side of the planet. It caters to more… _particular_ interests.”

“Like what?” Raditz pressed.

“Venus utilizes a barter and labor-trade system like all the other planets, but we also have currency in the form of gems and coins. Some individuals value currency above all else, and if you have enough, you can exchange it for… very _lucrative_ offerings.”

So the beautiful planet had a dark underbelly. “I get it.”

Glad that he understood, Papillon led him toward a sprawling neighborhood of marble and granite abodes. “This is just one of the residential districts. If you become a citizen of Venus, you can have a home custom-built from the ground up. If you’re a more intrepid sort, you can go live in one of the oasis communities or mining towns. But I personally enjoy the ease of living in the souq.” She smiled shyly, then noticed something amiss. “Ah, what happened to that other Saiyan?”

Raditz snapped out of his pheromone-induced reverie, turning his head every-which-way without spotting his brother. “Dammit…” he growled, and flew back to the souq much faster than his attractive guide. “Kakarot!” His boisterous voice earned the attention of everyone nearby. “Has anyone seen my brother?!”

“If you mean the one with shorter hair, he went back through the portal,” an old man provided.

Raditz grit his teeth. Why did Kakarot have to have the attention span of a fish? “Hold on!” Papillon called as he too started for the portal, huffing and puffing when she landed beside him. “You’re so fast, all I saw was a blur!” She let out a surprised squeak as he gripped her arms.

“Is there a way to tell where my brother went?” Raditz demanded. “Our parents will murder me if I let something happen to him.”

Papillon flailed her hands and he released her. “A portal technician can look through the travel log to see where the last hundred people have gone…” Raditz slumped at that. “Unfortunately, they’re used thousands of times a day. There’s no way to know precisely where your brother went unless you were with him.”

“Gods dammit,” he swore again, tail lashing while he stalked back and forth. “I guess I’ll have to visit every planet and every moon and track his ki.” What an _extremely_ off-putting notion.

“Ki?” The woman tilted her head.

“Energy, aura,” Raditz clarified. “It’s our sixth sense.”

Her aniridic eyes widened. “Oh, I see! In that case, I know someone who can expedite your search.” The Saiyan arched a brow. “Our guardian, Sailor Venus. All the celestial guardians are sensitive to auras.”

“But she lives on that… Magellan place.” He’d _mostly_ been paying attention to Queen Serenity’s explanation of the solar system. “How do we get there?”

Papillon beamed and pointed upward. “It’s easy for you and I. We can just fly.” She took off toward the clouds, Raditz matching her pace. “You might want to hold your breath,” she suggested. He did so, but the acidity of the atmosphere still irritated his skin. “Sulfur,” Papillon explained. “Even if other species could fly they wouldn’t willingly take the route we just did, but it’s certainly faster.” She cast her gaze about before continuing in a random direction. Raditz thought she was just leading him into another cloud bank, but then something solid began taking shape before his eyes. The fumes cleared, revealing an impressive fortress floating in the sky. Papillon alighted upon a set of stairs and strode through a set of enormous double doors like she belonged on Magellan. “Hah, you should see your face!” She giggled at his hanging-open mouth, which he promptly shut, then flagged down one of the aides in yellow and orange attire. “Pardon me, can we see Sailor Venus? I have a favor to exchange.”

“Of course. Right this way.” Papillon shot her companion a grin as they were escorted through the castle.

“Does the guardian have this whole place to herself?” he wondered.

“Oh no, she’s not _that_ haughty. A bunch of administrators and ambassadors live here as well. Think of the castles as the political centers of each planet. Citizens answer to their guardians and the guardians answer to Queen Serenity. Except Terra, which is a sovereign world ruled by King Aethlios.”

The governing system sounded more confusing when explained like that. “The queen said something about earning favors from the Guardian of Uranus, and you’re about to exchange one from Venus. How does that work, exactly?”

Papillon released a short sigh. “The favor system was recently implemented, after five of the worlds received new guardians.”

“Wait, ‘new’?” Raditz gave her a suspicious look. “What happened to the old ones?”

“They died,” she answered simply. “The guardians of Helios, Terra, Mercury, Saturn, and Pluto were killed in the latest clash with Shadow Galactica, which you’re better off not concerning yourself with since you’re not from Tankei.” She sighed again and attempted to smile. “Their guardian crystals found new hosts, and instead of Helios and Terra, we have Sailor Moon and Sailor Cosmos. All of the guardians are stronger than ever before because they now have the ability to borrow the life energy, _aether_ , of their people. In exchange for our aether, they grant us favors. They’re capable of performing miracles.”

“And you’re going to waste your favor on a request to find my stupid brother?!” Raditz blockaded her. “I’m not letting you do that. He’s _not_ worth it.”

“But he’s your _family_ ,” Papillon asserted, smiling ruefully. “I would’ve given anything to have someone help me reunite with my family when I fled Cocoon.”

He faltered and she skirted him, passing through a set of glass doors the aide had shown them to. The room within wasn’t large or impressive, just a simple sitting area with a rug, a couple chairs, and a display stand holding a gemmed sword. Raditz had no preconceived notions about the Guardian of Venus, only that she must possess comparable strength to Galaxia. When the young woman entered the room, she captivated all six of his senses simultaneously. His jaw dropped and he couldn’t form a single cohesive thought. “Sailor Venus…” Papillon bowed and nudged the Saiyan to make a similar show of respect. “My name is Papillon and I’ve come to exchange a favor.”

Venus quirked a thin blonde eyebrow at the way Raditz stared, dumbstruck. She had long, shining golden locks that reached her lower back. Her come-hither eyes were a gorgeous sky blue, bright against her sunkissed skin. The orange dress she wore had a plunging neckline and hip cutouts that showed off an attractive figure. “And you are?” she prompted.

“R-Raditz,” he stammered. It was hard not to feel intimidated by the sheer confidence she exuded.

“Papillon and Raditz. What can I do for you today?”

Anything. Everything. He clamped his mouth shut before something lewd escaped.

“Your Guardianship, I’d like you to seek out the aura of this man’s brother. They were separated in the Dawn Souq,” Papillon said.

Venus arched her eyebrow again, observing Raditz in a manner that made him feel small. How dumb did he have to be to lose track of his own kin? “Is that it? _That’s_ the favor you’re requesting?” Papillon nodded and the guardian laughed. “That’s nothing! I could do that in my sleep!” She waved her hand as if dismissing a servant. “I won’t consider this a favor, so you may come to me again when you need something really important.”

Raditz frowned. “Finding my brother _is_ important.”

Her eyes locked onto him again, withering. “You shouldn’t have lost him in the first place, yet I understand how _enraptured_ you must have been by this Cocoonite. She’s a beautiful representative of their species.” Papillon blushed violet at the compliment. Venus stepped even closer to Raditz. “And you’re an intriguing specimen yourself. So imposing. So masculine. What are you?”

“I’m a Saiyan,” Raditz replied with as much stoicism as he could muster. “There are only twelve of us left and my brother is one of them. _Please_ find him. Tell me where he is and I’ll never bother you again.”

She looked him up and down. “Don’t beg. It’s unbecoming of one like you.” Raditz didn’t know what to say to that. Sailor Venus closed her eyes and inclined her head. “Your aura is unlike anything I’ve sensed before. Very primal, _bestial,_ yet you have perfect control over it for the time being.” She met his gaze. “Tell me– what happens when you let those primitive instincts consume you?”

“We get stronger,” he answered.

“Hmm. I’d like to see that for myself some day.” A genuine, radiant smile graced her lips. Raditz nearly melted. “I sense your kind on Luna, Mercury, and the Galilean moon of Io. Does that help?”

“Yes!” He sighed in relief. “Thank you, Venus.” Papillon shot him a look for addressing her so casually, but Raditz had already whirled around and flown away, back to the Dawn Souq and the portal.

“Thanks for your help, Your Guardianship.” The Cocoonite bowed again, backing toward the exit. “And thank you for granting me another favor.”

“Wait a moment.” Papillon faltered as Venus lifted her chin. “Would you be willing to do _me_ a favor?”

“Anything, Your Guardianship!” she breathed.

“If any more Saiyans arrive here, I want you to bring them to me. You _do_ frequent the portal plaza, yes?” Papillon nodded exuberantly. “Thank you in advance.” Sailor Venus gifted her with a grateful smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to contact Mercury. Good day to you.”

* * *

Kakarot wasn’t sure what prompted him to set Io as his portal destination, but just like the food he’d enjoyed earlier that day, the Galilean moon exceeded his expectations. Gargantuan trees extended so far skyward he couldn’t see their crowns. It took him a few minutes to realize the bustling populace traversed the branches; they were even wider than the spaceship the Saiyans had arrived in. He looked over the edge of the railing and reeled, unable to see the ground. The dizzy spell made him stumble backwards into someone. “Hey, steady now…” Strong arms caught him. He craned his neck to meet a pair of deep green eyes. “You okay?”

He didn’t realize it was a woman until gathering his bearings and facing her. Male Saiyans were typically taller than the female members of their species but this Human woman had a couple inches on him, so he was impressed. Her sleeveless, slitted green dress revealed toned arms and legs, and her skin was tan and dewy. Her sandy brown hair had a hint of red in it, making it almost pink. _“I’m fine, thanks”_ he wanted to say, but he’d forgotten how to speak. After another ten seconds of utter silence, the woman gave him a small smile and turned to leave. “It’s the air,” she said.

Kakarot sort of found his voice. “Huh?”

“The air.” She gestured to the trees. “Thanks to the abundance of flora, Io’s atmosphere is so oxygen-rich it gives you a high. You’ll get used to it after a couple days if you plan on staying.”

“Oh, I see.” He cast his gaze around before it landed on her retreating form. _“Wait!”_ he wanted to call out, but his tongue had tied itself in a knot. What the heck was wrong with him? He never had a problem blurting out every thought that crossed his mind before. Why did his head feel funny after locking eyes with that woman? Why was his heart racing and his hair standing on end?

 _“Kakarot!”_ He whirled around at the harsh tone of his brother’s voice. Raditz stomped over to him with his brow knit and lip curled, intimidating the Jovians into giving them a wide berth. “What the hell were you thinking, wandering off like that? You have no idea where you’re going!” Kakarot’s attention shifted to the woman’s nicely-sculpted shoulders while Raditz berated him. “What if you got into trouble and none of us were there to have your back? We don’t know these worlds or their people, and… what the _hell_ are you looking at?!” Kakarot only went around him and followed in the woman’s wake, hurrying to catch up. But he didn’t really need to see her, not when he could sense her so keenly. Something about her just called to him, _summoned_ him, like he’d be able to find her no matter how far apart they were.

With a huff Raditz trailed his brother, weaving between people with a bit more finesse. However, the courtesy he afforded these strangers in lieu of bowling them over allowed Kakarot to give him the slip. “Gods dammit…” He shot into the air, startling several Jovians. Raditz scanned the wooden avenues, the vine bridges, the endless amount of carved stairways… How hard could it be to spot a Saiyan among the masses? He noticed more Cocoonites, all female and pretty like Papillon. There were a lot of tall, slender, androgynous green-skinned aliens with hair in neon shades of blue and pink. He saw a species with feline features including furry triangular ears and fuzzy tails. Yet he didn’t spy any Saiyans and ground his teeth.

Kakarot had almost caught up with the woman; she walked fast and had a long stride, and had the advantage of knowing where she was going. She crossed a platform where the crowd grew thin, placing fewer and fewer bodies between them. Now was his chance. With a burst of ki he flew up behind her, reaching for her arm. What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion. The woman spun toward him, visage cold and steely. She sidestepped Kakarot, wrapped her fingers around his neck, and planted him on the ground, shoving a knee in his chest. He blinked and discovered the tip of an incandescent beam blade burning his nose.

 _“Hey!”_ The surge of energy alerted Raditz who arrived on the scene with his aura ablaze. “Get off my brother!” Kakarot lay motionless as he charged the woman. Her ki crackled against his, overwhelming and destructive, more than a match for two Saiyans of their caliber. Without lifting an ounce of weight off Kakarot, she bare-handedly brought Raditz to a dead stop as he barreled into her. “Wh-what the?!” was all he managed before also finding himself on the ground with a sparking blade in his face.

“Who sent you?” the woman bit out. “Wiseman, Metalia, Nehelenia? Which leader of Shadow Galactica am I going to send your heads back to?”

Raditz wriggled under her knee. “Wait, wait, just _wait_ a gods damned second! Who _are_ you?!”

Her sharp eyes narrowed. “Sailor Jupiter, Guardian of Thunder.” A pause. “Who are you two?”

“We’re Saiyans!”

“Never heard of that species.”

Raditz swallowed as the blade came closer. “Y-Your Guardianship, please don’t kill us. We just got to this solar system! We don’t know anyone or anything about Shadow Galactica!” Except that Papillon mentioned he’d be better off not getting involved, which now seemed like solid advice.

Jupiter shifted some of her weight off their chests. Kakarot still said nothing, just _staring_ at her. “You’re new to the Sea, huh? We’ll see about that.” Both Saiyans’ eyes widened as one blade vanished into her arm and she used her new free hand to activate a device around her wrist. “Access solar system database,” she dictated. “Luna. Embassy. Temporary personnel files. Species search– ‘Saiyan’.” Her features softened after a moment. “I see. There are only twelve of you.” She stood up, offering hands to the siblings and effortlessly pulling them to their feet. Sailor Jupiter then glared at Kakarot. “If you come after me again, I’ll shove a plasma blade in your throat.”

Raditz also glowered at him. “Why did you attack her?”

“I didn’t.” He seemed strangely unaffected by being held at knifepoint.

The guardian crossed her arms. “I sensed you following me from the portal platform. You waited to strike until I got to my castle entrance. That’s something an _assassin_ would do, attack me where all my people could see.”

“Trust me, we Saiyans aren’t stealthy enough to assassinate anyone.” Raditz started to usher his brother away. “Sorry about this, Your Guardianship. I guess Kakarot just couldn’t he—” An explanation for the weird behavior came to mind as he offered the lame excuse. If correct, Kakarot literally _could not_ help himself right now. His reasoning seemed more plausible while they walked off; the younger Saiyan practically broke his neck attempting to keep Sailor Jupiter in his sights.

As soon as they left the Io Castle square, Raditz grabbed his sibling’s face. “Forget about her for two seconds and look at _me_ ,” he ordered. Saiyan eyes were so dark it was hard to differentiate the pupil from the iris, but up close he saw that Kakarot’s pupils were almost fully dilated. “You fucking idiot…” he groaned. “Why now? Why _her?_ ” That was a dumb question. Guardians were beautiful _and_ powerful so it made sense that one would be responsible for a Saiyan’s sexual awakening. However, Sailor Jupiter didn’t seem like the type who’d appreciate Kakarot’s newfound hyperfixation with her.

* * *

Broly had managed to ditch his overbearing father, but now he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Revel in the fact that he had some time to himself, perhaps. Back home, before the genocide, he was constantly surrounded by other Saiyans; if not fellow cadets like Kakarot and Shallot then scientists and physical trainers filling his head with the notion that he was destined for greatness, to become a legendary warrior. It was such bullshit. How did taking ki readings of newborn babies provide an accurate projection of one’s potential? Broly and Prince Vegeta had been branded prodigies when they were born, yet after fifteen years it was clear they were no more or less capable than other Saiyans their age. The Prince had a bit more freedom than Broly, being a royal with responsibilities and all, but Paragus never let up with his son’s training. It was an awful, selfish thought, but the Frieza attack had liberated him from a lifetime of spirit-crushing redundancy. In the Sea of Serenity he could become his own man and live on his own terms.

Broly found himself on the red planet. Dry heat assailed him as soon as he exited the portal and the stench of smelted metal coated the back of his tongue, leaving an iron tang. Most of the people were darkly tan, doubtless from the relentless sun, and the few pale-skinned individuals operated beneath paper parasols or from within shaded buildings. It seemed to be a running theme within the Sea that most portals deposited visitors in the market district. Broly earned a few curious glances during his aimless wandering and received plenty of expectant looks from weaponsmiths, who recognized a fighter when they saw one. But Saiyans had no need for primitive devices… at least, he _assumed_ they were primitive. He had to stop short when a beam saber superheated the air right in front of him. “Sorry!” the wielder said, and proceeded to handle the weapon in a manner that would’ve resulted in dismemberment if Broly attempted the same motions.

Mars was clearly the home of a warrior people, just like Queen Serenity said. There were no fancy buildings or even nice infrastructure; everything had been stripped down to perform its basic function, very utilitarian. The only feature with a modicum of artistry was the water fountain in a central courtyard. Tiles around the base formed a mosaic of warriors with varying styles of armor and weapons. The more details he studied, the more Broly came to appreciate the designs. The figures were different races so it must have been an homage to the fighting spirit of each species in the Sea. Which was kind of sad and ironic, actually, since he’d garnered a complete understanding of the conflict with Shadow Galactica while Paragus dragged him around Saturn. Out of all of the people who called the Sea of Serenity home –Mautians, Cocoonites, Makaijin, Ginjin, Kinjin, and Corvids– only the last had fought until the bloody end to defend their planet, Coronis. Their surviving population had been the smallest until the Saiyans came along and earned that… distinction.

“Hey, you.” Broly scanned the crowd until locking eyes with a shifty-looking Mautian. “Yeah, _you_.” She approached, yellow irises glinting within the shadow of her shawl. “Haven’t seen yer kind before. Yer new to the Sea, yeah?” He nodded once. “I knew it. You lost everythin’, yeah? Got here with nothin’ but the clothes on yer back?”

“What do you want?” Broly asked in a normal speaking voice.

“Shh!” Her head darted around but no one was paying attention to their conversation. “Folks won’t tell you that you _need_ coin to survive in this system. They’ll say you can _have_ things or trade back-breakin’ labor for them, then they ask for more ‘n more ‘cause it’s _only fair._ Yer smarter than that, right? Yer old world had currency of some kind?”

“Galactic credits,” Broly replied, “but we had to work for those, too.”

The Mautian grinned. “I’m offerin’ you coin that’ll go far here– gold ‘n silver. Those’re two of the five most precious metals in the Sea, so you’ll be able to buy _anything_ you want.”

He scoffed. “And how do you expect me to earn it?”

“On Mars, there’re fightin’ tournaments twice a month, one match for accomplished soldiers followed by one for greenhorns. Yer young, but yer already so strong. You got some experience, yeah?” Broly said nothing. “I can tell by lookin’ at ya. Big muscles, dense bones, thick skin. _Strong_.” Her tail swished languidly. “I wanna bet on you in the amateur bout. When you win, you’ll get the tournament purse _and_ I’ll give you thirty percent of the bets.”

Broly hummed. “What if I don’t win? I don’t know anything about how these other species fight.”

She held up a clawed finger. “Watch the bout of champions first. That way you’ll see how everyone moves, what weapons they prefer, learn their weaknesses.” She paused, smiling smugly. “Ah, but yer not a citizen of Mars, are ya? Yer stayin’ at the embassy on Luna.” The Saiyan folded his arms. “ _I_ can get you into the colosseum.”

“In exchange for what?”

“A sample of yer blood.” Her other hand unfurled to reveal a tiny syringe.

Broly glanced from it to her face a few times. “That’s it?” He proffered his arm. “Take it, then.” He didn’t even feel the prick of the needle. “What will you use it for?”

“Oh, it ain’t for me.” She chuckled while stowing the syringe, then held out a paw. “Call me Nyanko.”

“Broly.” The Mautian winced as he intentionally squeezed while shaking her hand.

“Broly. Let’s go get you a front row view.”

The colosseum was unlike anything he’d seen before. As soon as Nyanko led him through one of the stone arches, Broly knew he had entered hallowed ground. A thousand seats lined with red velvet faced a plain dusty circle. He could smell the blood baked into the soil and painted on the walls lining the innermost row where he and Nyanko sat. “This the splatter zone,” she informed him. “It’s considered an honor if you get sprayed with the victor’s blood.”

Broly gave a disinterested grunt. He was here to observe, not to worship. Once all the seats had been filled, the soldiers entered the arena from different doorways to cheering so loud his ears rang. But he noticed something amiss. “There’s no Human fighter,” he commented to Nyanko. “Are they not worthy of facing the others?”

“Oh, they’re more’n worthy. Just wait.”

After the reigning champions were introduced, they turned toward a conspicuously empty high-backed chair and saluted with their weapons. Then the audience stood, Broly a second late, and placed their fists over their hearts. A woman stepped out from behind the chair and mirrored the gesture. “For blood and glory!” she shouted.

 _“For blood and glory!”_ the audience roared, and that signified the start of the six-way battle.

Broly sat down hard, unable to take his eyes off the woman in the red dress. She almost resembled a Saiyan with her long black hair and dark-colored eyes. But her skin was fair, pristine as snow, and there was an air of regal authority about her. Not to mention she lacked a tail. “Who is that?” he inquired of the Mautian.

“That’s the Human champion, Mars’ own guardian. She’s been undefeated since receivin’ her crystal, and she’s returned victorious from four campaigns against Shadow Galactica, second only to Sailor Venus.”

“She’s that strong?”

“Oh, yes. She returned from the last campaign with the diadem of Beryl, one of the Tau system’s supreme commanders.” Broly believed that since he saw the diadem displayed in the museum on Rhea. Nyanko gave him a knowing look. “If you become a citizen of Mars, you can join the army n’ accompany the guardian on campaigns. If Shadow Galactica doesn’t kill ya, you’ll be invited to participate in the tournament of champions. Who knows– you could end up representin’ the remainder of the Saiyan race on that very patch of dirt.”

Broly had a long think. His father wanted to settle on Saturn because it was quiet, peaceful, and mostly everyone minded their own business. But here on Mars he’d have an opportunity to become a legendary warrior. Not just because people _said_ he would be, but because he’d fight for it, _earn_ it. For a few droplets of blood, glory would be his and everyone would know what Saiyans were capable of. Here was a chance to establish a new reputation for his species, a chance to be respected and honored for their combat prowess instead of feared and suppressed. And it didn’t even matter if he failed since no one knew who he was.

Really, he had nothing to lose.


	3. Nocturnal Creatures

Broly stood just outside the arena with the other dozen or so aspiring champions hoping to earn recognition from Sailor Mars. At least, that was what he deduced most of their goals were by eavesdropping. Combatants who displayed exemplary fighting prowess were sometimes chosen to train with Mars in her sanctum on Deimos, and there was no greater honor for any denizen of the Sea than to be blessed by a guardian. Broly intended to provide a display of pure Saiyan might; surely the Martians had never seen someone fight like him. He felt his opponents scrutinizing him, sizing him up, trying to determine his weak points. He didn’t have any, in all honesty. _Maybe_ if someone managed to land a blow at the base of his tail it would stagger him, but good luck getting through the tasset.

After a brief introduction he strode out beneath the unforgiving sun with the others. They formed a circle, facing each other, and tensions immediately ramped up. There were four Mautians wearing light armor and wielding small blades. Three Makaijin brought plasma guns to the skirmish. A Kinjin male and a Ginjin female wore geometric plate armor and carried long bladed polearms called naginata. A young Corvid girl garnered the most snide comments, but Broly wouldn’t underestimate the winged humanoid; like him, she had already lost just about everything but her pride. The last fighter was swathed in tattered fabric, totally obscuring their identity. Whatever they were, Broly was positive he could handle them.

Sailor Mars returned to her high-backed chair and the din of the crowd grew louder, anticipatory, demanding entertainment at the warriors’ expense. How many people were betting against Broly? How much did Nyanko hope to make? His worth was about to be decided on this circle of soiled earth.

_“Begin!”_

The Makaijin opened fire on the Mautians first, but their blades were composed of metal that reflected the plasma blasts. Two of the felines pounced on Broly while the other two went after the shooters, reducing their composite guns to ribbons. The Saiyan flung his attackers off, hurling them across the arena where they hit the barrier and slumped to the ground, out cold. The Corvid made a beeline for him, sticking low to the ground while she whirled like a dervish, then she leapt up and kicked out with her raptor-like feet, slashing at his forearm. Broly’s bracer blocked two of her talons but the third nicked the fleshy part of his thumb. Her claws were sharp as diamonds; a cleaner hit would’ve easily severed an artery. He put pressure on the wound while distancing himself from the bird girl, who turned her attention back to the melee.

Broly watched the remaining Mautians and one Makaijin gang up on the Kinjin-Ginjin pair. They were skilled, that much was obvious by the way they moved around one another without permitting a single opening. The Corvid and the cloaked fighter separated after a brief tussle in the dirt, her talons reddened from inflicting a deep wound on her foe’s chest. “Tch,” came a masculine scoff. He threw off the stained rags and Broly gasped.

“Turles?!”

The renegade flashed a smirk over his shoulder. “Hello, _prodigy_. I’ll get to you in a second.” The Corvid lunged again but Turles dodged her and grabbed a wing, giving it a sharp tug. She cried out from the pain of having it dislocated and crawled away from the Saiyan. “One down, a few more to go.” Broly watched open-mouthed as his kinsman inserted himself into the three-on-two battle. Bursts of white ki eviscerated the Mautians’ armor and left smoldering burn marks on the Makaijin’s skin. Turles unflinchingly took a naginata slash right to his collarbone, snapping the blade off and lashing out at the Ginjin woman’s face. She jerked away too slowly, earning a gash across her nose and cheek that started bleeding after a beat. Her flawless visage had been ruined.

“You _bastard!_ ” The Kinjin man forced Turles to retreat with a flurry of slashes, then he paused to assume a different stance.

“What’s this?” the Saiyan asked, taunting yet intrigued. “I didn’t think any of these pathetic creatures were capable of energy manipulation!” The man’s qi boost didn’t really make a difference. Turles still swatted him aside before facing Broly with a shit-eating grin on his face. “There. Now we can show these people how a superior species fights.”

Adrenaline began surging through his veins. He hadn’t expected to battle a fellow Saiyan. “What are you doing here, Turles?”

He shrugged. “Same thing as you– making money.”

“I thought you had stuff stashed all over the Conglomerate’s territory.”

“Tch. My previous associates would’ve helped themselves to everything by now. I’m just as destitute as the rest of you.” He crossed his arms and rose into the air, hovering expectantly. The crowd went crazy over the promise of an aerial smackdown. “Well? Are you going to face me, little prodigy?”

Broly’s jaw clenched as his hands balled into fists. In their solar system, Turles the Renegade had a reputation that far preceded him. He fought dirty and without honor, lying and stealing to get what he wanted. His involvement with a rogue faction had earned the ire of everyone in their galactic arm, even the Frieza who, despite their considerable power and influence, had never been able to catch and punish the bastard. Turles swore allegiance to nobody but himself, and it came as no shock to Broly that he was willing to trample his own kind to elevate his status.

He drew even with Turles, tuning out the audience to focus on his older opponent. The man had seven years on him but Broly had fifteen years of continuous training, counting on the fact that he possessed greater ki control. Indeed, when Turles rushed him, it felt like watching a freighter attempting to dock. Broly almost laughed at how slowly he moved. “Wipe that look off your face,” he spat, launching a huge ki blast. Broly returned fire with his own. There was no beam struggle as it simply knocked the renegade right back down to the ground. Broly followed up with a diving kick but Turles rolled to one side in time to avoid it. He struck his knee and Broly buckled, wincing. The man may have been slow as a freighter but he hit like one, too.

Turles was on him before he could recover, battering him with heavy punches. It was all Broly could do to protect his head. “Is this it?!” the renegade cackled with manic glee. “Is this all the strength you can muster, _prodigy?_ ” Broly centered his ki in his core and threw Turles off. He landed on his feet, skidding to a stop. “Better! Now you’re approaching the realm of being considered a worthy Saiyan.”

“Shut _up_.” Broly flew over to him in a blur, swinging for his jaw. Unexpectedly, Turles blocked it.

A sneer. “You didn’t _really_ believe I couldn’t keep up with you? How naïve.” The next moment Broly found himself on the receiving end of a spinning kick that sent him crashing into the wall. He shook his head, dazed, then Turles appeared over him to jam an elbow into the back of his neck. Before he hit the ground a knee smashed against his nose, breaking it easily.

Gods, he hit _hard_. Broly hadn’t felt pain like this since calling his father a weak old man in a fit of adolescent rage. He grit his teeth and shifted his nasal bone back into place with a _crack_. Turles regarded him in amusement. “Tough little fucker, aren’t you?” He charged forward again, but Broly was ready this time and channeled ki through both of his palms in a broad cone. He heard Turles cry out and didn’t let up, transitioning the energy attack into a physical barrage. He moved so swiftly and precisely that neither the Martians nor Turles could track his movements. Broly finished by hurling the renegade into the dirt face-first where he groaned and lay still.

Once positive Turles wasn’t faking him out, Broly examined his surroundings. The entire colosseum was _screaming_ for him, just nonsensical hollering letting him know they relished the spectacle he provided. What a debut he made in that arena. The ground had partaken of his blood and found him worthy of praise, of adoration, of worship. From then on, Broly would always carry the honor of being the first Saiyan to achieve victory on Martian soil.

Sailor Mars had stood to make her way down to the battleground. Everyone quieted; soon it was still enough to hear the shifting fabric of her scarlet dress. Broly squared his shoulders and met her gaze as she approached, unwavering. She walked right up to him and held his filthy face in her clean hands, staring deep into his eyes and revealing her own to be an unusual violet color. He was also thrown off by how gently her aura mingled with his, shifting and dancing like the soft glow of a candle. The Guardian of Flame didn’t burn him at all.

After what felt like an age, she pulled away. Broly released the breath he’d withheld. “That was very well done,” Sailor Mars said, offering a demure smile. “You may come to Deimos to train with me whenever you like.” She turned on her heel and left him standing there to bask in a new round of applause.

Now Broly knew why everyone coveted a guardian’s blessing. It was, without a doubt, the greatest feeling in the universe.

* * *

Bardock, Gine, and Paragus were waiting just beyond the embassy portal when their children returned to Luna that night. For ten long seconds none of them uttered a word. After assessing her sons and deeming them to be just fine, Gine’s focus shifted to Broly. She took in his battered appearance as well as the satchel of coins hanging from his belt. “What happened to you, boy?”

“Um…” He mussed his shaggy hair. “I got in a fight.”

“With who?” Bardock asked.

“Turles.” He was afraid to look at his father.

_“Turles?”_

“Yes.” His eyes flicked to Paragus for the briefest of moments, missing his reaction. “I won.”

“Huh. Good for you.” Gine patted his arm before approaching her sons, pretending to hug them but grabbing their ears at the last second. “You two are going _straight_ to bed _without_ dinner _right now!_ ”

Kakarot winced but didn’t protest, the opposite of Raditz. “Oww, _Mom!_ Let me go, dammit! I’m too old for this shit!”

“Apparently you’re not too old to go running amok through this solar system like it’s your personal playground!”

“I wasn’t running amok!” Raditz managed to escape her grasp and flew up to the ceiling. Gine planted her hands on her hips in a way that meant _“get down here this instant, young man”_. “Kakarot and I just visited Venus, that’s all!”

“Oh, you lying little shit! I know for a _fact_ that you two caused a commotion on Io!” Raditz’s expression fell. “We received a _letter_ from one of Sailor Jupiter’s aides. Bardock, tell them what it said.”

He cleared his throat. “All Saiyans have been barred from applying for citizenship on the moon of Io.”

“See what you did?!” Gine shouted, “You sabotaged a potential home world for _all_ of us! This is the consequence of your selfish, stupid actions!”

Raditz took a few deep breaths before coming down to the ground. “It’s a misunderstanding, Mom. That guardian—”

“Oh, _please_ tell me how one of the most important people in this system _misunderstood_ the way you both _attacked_ her.”

“That’s _not_ what happened!” Raditz shouted back. He glanced at his brother, who resembled more of a kicked puppy than a Saiyan whenever their mother yelled at them. “I’m positive Kakarot formed an aura link with Sailor Jupiter.”

Their parents’ demeanors shifted so suddenly they made Broly flinch, although that may have been due to the way Paragus’ brow furrowed in disapproval. “An _aura link?_ ” Bardock echoed, aghast. “With a celestial guardian?” Raditz nodded and he slumped against the wall. “Well, that’s just _great_.”

“Hey, it’s not his fault.” Now Gine regarded her younger son with a bit more tenderness. “I guess it’s time to have that talk with you, huh?”

“What talk?” Broly dared to ask. Was Kakarot actually in trouble or not?

Paragus sighed. “Gine, if you wouldn’t mind…”

She nodded and motioned to Broly, who came to stand beside his fellow cadet. Gine studied both of them with a hint of sadness in her eyes; she swore they grew too fast. Just as her lips parted, Bardock interjected. “Hold up. Do you think Shallot knows?”

“Probably not, since…” Since he was an orphan long before the Frieza would’ve made him into one. “Come on, boys. We’re going to include Shallot in this conversation.” Kakarot and Broly exchanged a look before following Gine through the portal to Mercury. Once they were gone, Raditz leaned beside his father and Paragus quietly retreated to his quarters.

“Are you _positive_ it was an aura link?” Bardock pressed.

“Sure looked like it. Felt like it, too.”

 _“Shit.”_ He dragged a hand down his face. “I wouldn’t be so worried if it were anybody but one of those guardians. Me and your mother met Sailor Neptune while we were exploring Triton, and she was…”

“Beautiful?”

Bardock smiled crookedly. “Gorgeous, but don’t tell your mother I said that. No, she was… she was like…”

“Intimidating?”

“Yeah. They’re a lot like us, I think, but with a straighter moral compass. Shadow Galactica behaves just like the Frieza– they’re selfish, greedy, and powerful. They subjugate every species they come across and kill any dissenters. Those who refuse to serve them flee to this safe haven. The guardians are under no obligation to fight Shadow Galactica and reclaim those stolen worlds. It’s not their conflict which makes their involvement totally selfless. They fight because it’s the right thing to do.”

Raditz considered it. “And we used to fight for all the wrong reasons.”

“Mhm.”

The silence that grew between them was short-lived. “I’m jealous.” Bardock faced his son, eyebrow raised. “I wish my aura link could’ve been with Sailor Venus.”

He chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous. This might be a dangerous time for your brother.”

“Dangerously fun and sexy, maybe. You haven’t seen Sailor Jupiter, Dad. She’s _tall_ and she has _muscles_ , just like a Saiyan!”

Bardock pushed off the wall, nonchalant. “What do you think Kakarot will do if Sailor Jupiter goes off to engage Shadow Galactica in the next couple weeks?”

“What do you mean? He’ll just follow… _oh._ ”

“Now do you understand why we’re not happy about this?”

Raditz paled. “But it’s not his fault, he didn’t have a choice! If he follows her to Tankei, he might not…” The thought was too terrible to finish. Bardock sighed before walking off in a random direction. “Hey, where’re you going?”

“To write an appeal to Sailor Jupiter.” His son quickly caught up. “Maybe if we beg her not to leave the Sea until the link is severed, Kakarot will be fine.”

 _“Don’t beg,”_ Sailor Venus had said. _“It’s unbecoming of one like you.”_

Raditz stopped him. “Wait, let me write it. I actually met her, I know her a little better than you.”

“Go for it, then.” Bardock loitered in the mail room while his son sat down at a console to type a plea.

Instead of sounding desperate, Raditz wanted to convince Sailor Jupiter to tolerate Kakarot’s presence until such a time as the link severed itself. He wasn’t that bad, honestly. Sometimes, like today, he didn’t say much, studying his surroundings like Saiyans with good survival instincts did. Other times he didn’t know how to shut the fuck up. If he started chatting her ear off, all she had to do was give him food. Juvenile Saiyans like him needed lots of calories to support their development into healthy adults. And if she felt so inclined to train with him, get in a friendly sparring match or two, Kakarot would be _ecstatic_ to share some Saiyan combat techniques if he could receive Jovian ones in turn. He thrived on physical stimulation… no, bad wording. Providing Kakarot with something physically challenging would most likely prevent him from trying to get physical with her. If he was pushy about it, she had permission to stab him with a plasma blade. Satisfied with the letter, Raditz sent the digital file off to Io Castle.

Later that night, as the clock read 2:00, Kakarot’s stomach began growling so loudly and incessantly that neither of the brothers couldn’t sleep. “Put a lid on that thing.”

“I can’t,” came Kakarot’s sad, pathetic voice in the darkness of their room. “I’m starving.”

With a groan and a grunt, Raditz got out of bed and cautiously opened the door, straining his ears for any indication that their parents stirred in the neighboring room. He gestured for Kakarot to follow and the two of them drifted down the hall to the dining facility where they found the kitchen operating as normal despite the hour. Several tables were occupied by embassy staff members murmuring among themselves, but the brothers made a beeline for a particular group. Vegeta, Tarble, Broly, and Shallot had also been stricken with hunger pangs in the middle of the night. “You’re back,” Raditz remarked of the Sadalan Saiyan. “Nice scar.” Shallot farther hunched his shoulders in an attempt to hide the off-colored tendrils creeping up his neck. “Don’t sit like that, you’ll mess up your spine.”

“Piss off.” Shallot bit into a lamb shank with gusto. “Heard you met the guardians of Venus _and_ Jupiter today.”

“Yeah. You meet any?”

His chewing slowed. “Sailor Mercury.”

“What’s she like?” Broly queried.

“Arrogant,” Shallot answered. “She acts like she knows everything.”

“Maybe she does,” Tarble put in. “Mercury is one of the knowledge centers of the Sea.”

“I don’t _want_ her to know about us. She wanted my blood to run tests on and experiment with. She looked at me like I was a lab rat.”

Broly spoke around his drinking glass. “I gave a blood sample to a Mautian I met on Mars.”

Everyone regarded him in mild bewilderment. “Why did you do that?” Vegeta asked.

“So I could see a fight at the colosseum.”

“Was it a female Mautian? Black fur, yellow eyes?” Broly nodded and Shallot lunged across the table to grab him, upsetting several trays of food. “You _idiot!_ That woman knows Sailor Mercury! I saw them talking in the hospital!”

Kakarot and Vegeta pulled him off. “Calm down,” the prince said sternly. “We’re not trying to make a bad impression here.” Shallot bit back any words he might have lashed out with, his tail doing so instead.

Tarble switched subjects. “How was the fight, Broly?”

“Not that interesting, really…”

“I meant the one with Turles.”

“Oh.” Even though he won, he didn’t want to talk about it. After the adrenaline subsided he realized how messed up it was for the last twelve Saiyans in existence to hurt each other. “He’s pretty strong.”

“Well, he’s older,” Raditz said through his meat bun. “After puberty, when you’re fully grown and buffed up, you’ll be able to fight him without breaking any bones.” At the word “puberty” his kinsmen fell silent and donned the most embarrassed expressions he’d ever seen. He just had to needle them. “The king ever have that chat with you, Highnesses? About the _changes_ you’re going to experience on the path to manhood?”

Vegeta sighed. “Yes, we had that conversation.” And what an awkward conversation it was, one of the least dignified moments the princes would ever recall of their father. For whatever reason, Saiyan mothers were much more adept at explaining puberty to their children.

Raditz rested his chin in one hand, smug. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of you formed aura links with guardians.”

Tarble fidgeted. “I’m sure Kakarot is an anomaly.”

“Don’t think so. I’ve got a _feeling_ about this. When you’re my age, you’ll have a better sense for different types of energy. The ki those guardians possess is… _alluring_. It makes you want to _revel_ in it.” More squirming. “But since I’m an adult, I can restrain myself. Resisting biological urges is a little more difficult for youngsters like you.” _Now_ he was done making them uncomfortable.

Kakarot poked a piece of fish around his plate. “Did _you_ form an aura link with anyone, Raditz?”

“Yeah, Commander Celipa.” Tarble almost choked on his beverage, coughing it back up.

“But she would’ve been… older than you,” Vegeta managed to articulate. How did one address deceased sexual conquests without sounding completely insensitive?

“Yeah, she was older and _experienced_. Our link only lasted a few days.”

“So that’s the trick, then? To just… get everything out of the way?” Broly surmised.

Raditz shrugged. “I can’t say. Everyone’s different. What works for one Saiyan might not work for another. I just did what my body wanted and it wanted to fuck like an animal for three days straight.”

“Gods…” Shallot emphatically rolled his eyes. “If my aura links with Sailor Mercury’s, just kill me. Ki beam straight through my temple.”

“She can’t be _that_ bad,” Tarble said in defense of the girl he didn’t even know. “She must be pretty, at the very least. We met Sailor Moon today and she was lovely.”

 _“Lovely,”_ Vegeta snickered. “Listen to you!”

“What? You can’t deny that she’s beautiful.” The younger prince held his head high. “If forming an aura link is an inevitable fact of growing up, then I want it to be with a beautiful woman. One I won’t get tired of looking at, one whose presence I’ll enjoy being in.”

Raditz also chuckled. “In a couple years I’ll start telling the ladies of the Sea to watch out for you, Highness.”

* * *

Turles had managed to drag himself out of the colosseum and back to several pairs of arms waiting to embrace him on Venus. He relaxed in a tiled bath while four of Sailor Venus’ handmaidens doted upon him, taking their sweet time. The Saiyan was an intriguing specimen indeed, and they savored their opportunity to fondle and ogle him before their mistress hoarded him all to herself.

As a creature of habit, the first thing Turles did after being freed from his shackles was visit all the worlds in the Sea of Serenity to learn who was worth establishing connections with. Mostly everyone pointed him to Venus, specifically the Dusk Souq, the center of the flesh and drug trade. Mercurians and Saturnians desired stimulants to keep themselves awake. Martians wanted steroids to give themselves a physical advantage over others. Jovians and Neptunians consumed hallucinogens like candy to achieve “enlightenment”. It had been obvious to Turles that the Sea was not the shining pinnacle of peace, love, and harmony that the queen presented to newcomers. Every society had its ugly side, its bigotry, its deep-rooted cultural issues that no one wanted to acknowledge and turned a blind eye to, hiding them beneath nice and pretty things. But the foundation remained, full of nastiness, and people like him thrived in it.

His current position was not actually the result of his own scheming; rather, Sailor Venus had been the puppetmaster behind today’s show. The Mercurians were upset that Shallot refused to give them a blood sample, _audaciously_ denying a request from the guardian herself. They wanted to sequence and study the Saiyan genome in an effort to understand them, develop cures, and make other medical advancements because that’s what they did with every species in the Sea. They considered it incredibly selfish of Shallot to withhold such knowledge from them, but they had the good sense not to harass King Vegeta for his blood.

Sailor Venus offered to get Mercury their sample in exchange for “payment to be collected at a later time”. Then Turles arrived on Venus and was escorted to Magellan Castle by Papillon. He offered his blood because he didn’t give a fuck what anyone used it for. But how long would one sample last? How long until it degraded? Wouldn’t it be better to have _multiple_ samples? The Saiyans hadn’t registered as citizens yet so they couldn’t be tracked throughout the system, but Turles knew exactly where his kinsmen were coming and going. He made the acquaintance of Nyanko, a purveyor of illicit substances, who intercepted Broly on Mars. The amateur fight in the colosseum had just been a way for Turles to earn coin to spend in the Dusk Souq. He planned on buying a whore or two, but Sailor Venus said she wanted to extend her _personal gratitude_ for his assistance.

One of the maidens started getting handsy before Venus summoned him, riling him up. Turles got out of the water, dried himself off with a flash of ki, and floated into her bedroom that was all cold marble and breezy fabrics offset by warm metallic colors. Neither said a word while she bustled about, then Turles’ gaze landed on a blade that resembled a less-fancy version of the one in her sitting room. There was probably a reason for its lack of ornamentation. “Nice sword,” he commented. “Ever kill anyone with it?”

“Many Galactica soldiers have fallen to that blade,” Venus replied.

“Mm. Can I ask something else?”

“You just did.”

He almost snorted. “You’re young. Will I get in trouble for being here?”

Venus tossed an amused look over her shoulder. “I’m twenty years old. Bathing in the blood of my enemies keeps me youthful.”

The Saiyan smiled at both her quip and the fact that he only had two years on her. After another minute she completed her duties and crossed the room while slipping her dress off, letting it pool on the floor. “I wanted to do that,” Turles said, but was hardly upset over the fact that he now held a beautiful naked woman in his arms.

“Feel free to put it back on.” She pushed him toward the bed, forgetting he could fly. When his legs bumped the footboard he spun them around and landed atop her. Venus feigned a pout. “I wanted to do that.”

“Too bad.” He kissed her hard, nipping at her lips.

“Your teeth are sharp,” she remarked.

“So?”

“So _stop_ biting me.” He wisely adhered to the warning in her tone. Turles was not so cocky as to believe he could overpower a guardian and simply take what he wanted. “Much better…” Venus sighed after a minute. “I knew you Saiyans could be docile.”

“Tch.” Just for that comment he abandoned her sweet mouth and fixed his teeth around her neck. The woman tensed. “I’m not going to be your _pet._ ”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Venus assured. “I thought there might be a gentler creature beneath that brutish exterior, and I was right.” The hand in his hair pushed him down to her breasts. They weren’t particularly large but there was enough supple flesh to grope and squeeze, to lick and suck and, regrettably, not bite.

The scent of her arousal prompted him to continue downwards. “Soft…” Turles murmured against the plain of her stomach. He couldn’t think of any other species he’d copulated with that had skin as soft as this. Breasts were just fine. An orifice to put his dick in was a requirement. But an epidermis without bristles, scales, wrinkles or folds was a welcome treat. It made her so _vulnerable_ , forcing her to react to the calluses on his palms, the coarse hair on his chest, and the heated breaths he exhaled. Beneath that thin skin he felt every slight twitch and flex of her muscles. Turles had never been with someone so receptive. Humans were new and interesting; sex would be _exciting_ again.

“Hey…” Venus piped up after he reversed course and started trailing kisses along her legs. “Just so you know, my name isn’t ‘Sailor Venus’.”

“No?” He was genuinely curious.

“No, that’s just a title. My real name is Minako, but call me ‘Mina’.”

“Mina…” Turles repeated it against her inner thigh. “Why should I call you that?”

Her heart pounded so fast with anticipation that she struggled to keep her voice level. “It helps me feel Human.”

He laughed a little. “What?”

“I’ve been a celestial guardian for a long time. I’m the third-oldest in the Sea, after Uranus and Neptune. I got my crystal when I was thirteen, and since then… I’ve missed out on a lot of connections. _Human_ connections. We’re a social species. You’re not Human, but… I don’t think you realize how good this feels, to be _with_ someone.”

“Mmm…” Turles situated himself between her legs, breathing deeply to fill his nose with her sweet, subtly musky perfume. “I have _some_ idea based on how wet you are.”

Mina smiled and rolled her eyes. “Be proud of yourself.”

“I am.” He sampled her then, a slow swipe of his tongue over the softest, most sensitive part of her body. Mina sighed and sank down, perfectly content to melt in his mouth. “Gods, you taste amazing.”

“And you’re rather good at this.”

Turles liked the airy quality her voice had taken on. He wanted to make her moan, scream, cry out his name as he pushed her over the edge. He wanted Mina to forget her previous lovers and only call on him to fulfill her, to provide that intimate connection she sought.

“Lift your head a little… yes, there. _Right_ there.”

He knew he was being greedy. He couldn’t have a celestial warrior to himself when she belonged to her people. But that streak of Saiyan possessiveness reared its head the longer his remained between her thighs. Turles _wanted_ her, all of her; body, soul, guardian crystal, every aspect of her existence. A low, guttural sound emanated from deep within his chest, the vibration making her writhe.

“What was _that?_ ” Mina questioned. Turles spared her a glance. Her head was thrown back, hands clutching a pillow. “Make that noise again.” He’d gladly rumble for her, moan for her, resonate with her, whatever she desired. “Oh god, oh _god_. Turles, I-I’m…”

She came hard, those intricate little muscles rippling around the tip of his tongue. He wanted to sheath himself before her orgasm subsided, while she was extra sensitive. Turles sat up on his knees and wavered from a head rush. With all that blood flowing to his nether regions he quickly recovered, taking a moment to admire the woman on display before him. Her skin was flushed with beads of sweat. Her hair fanned out like a wild golden blossom. There was a faraway look in her half-lidded eyes, and her lips were red and swollen. “It was that good, huh?” he asked. He didn’t think she had faked it, but in _his_ experience, women never looked so satisfied from having sex with strange alien men. Mina was practically glowing.

She reached for him, grasping at air. “Come here, Turles.” A little voice told him to be wary of the glint in her eyes and the lilt in her tone, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the demands of his cock. He fell upon her, pushed inside her, waited a beat for another head rush to subside before moving in earnest. Mina wrapped her legs around his back, tittering when he locked her ankles in place with his tail. “You’d better let go,” she told him.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.” Turles had no intention of relinquishing his position. Then he sensed her energy swell, her aura surging and crashing over his like a wave, and quickly unwound his tail before she rolled them over, now straddling his hips. He filled her completely in this position, his eyes rolling shut from the pleasure of her embrace. She moved languidly, caressing his broad, sculpted chest and chiseled abdomen. “What a physique…” Mina leaned forward to kiss the hollow of his throat, making him shudder. “I could spend _all night_ just looking at you.”

Turles rumbled at the prospect, panting. “I’d hope… you do more… than just look.” She shifted ever so slightly but the new angle blew his mind. “ _Fuck_ , woman.” Mina rose up to let him buck into her. As she reached out to steady herself, her hand came down on his tail. It felt even softer and fluffier twining around her wrist than her ankles and she just had to run her fingers through the fur. Turles cracked an eye open. “You didn’t even touch my cock like that.”

“Do you need me to?” She started to slide off but he grabbed her waist and pulled her back down, earning a breathless laugh. “If you wanted it rough, you could have said so.”

He gave the idea pause for thought. “Just a _little_ harder.” Turles kept his hands on her waist as Mina began her pace anew. Her rolling hips were downright hypnotic, driving him to a state of ecstasy. Every part of them was in sync; pulse, breathing, rhythm… They even moaned in unison.

And then it started to hurt. “M-Mina…” Turles tried speaking, wincing at how her hip bones suddenly felt like daggers, her core a vise, her fingernails sharper than the Corvid bitch who gouged him. “Mina, s-slow down.” She didn’t let up, as if she hadn’t even heard him. Or as if she didn’t care. He tried moving her hands off his chest but they were rigid, unyielding, and now putting too much pressure on him, crushing him. “Hey…” Turles gasped, “come on, _stop_.” She regarded him narrowly and a chill went up his spine. That glint was darker now, lending the little smirk on her lips a sadistic curve. The Saiyan found he couldn’t move a muscle, the weight of her aura pinning him in place. “Let me _go_ ,” he choked out, “this _hurts_.”

“You wanted my love, didn’t you?” Mina, or perhaps Venus, smiled viciously. “This is what it feels like to make love to a guardian.”

Turles bit back the pain. “I… thought you were a _Human_.” There, she faltered, the force of her ki subsiding. He took the opportunity to flip them over so he was on top, and resentment crossed her countenance.

Ten long seconds passed between them. “Are you going to finish?” Mina asked, blasé. Gods knew he wanted to, but the power she possessed had majorly killed the mood. “You can use one of my handmaidens since you can’t handle me.”

Turles abruptly pulled out and left the room to find one. With those words his Saiyan pride had been wounded in a number of ways: as a warrior, as a lover, as a man… As a _being_ he felt inferior to Sailor Venus, too inadequate to receive her savage love.

“How disappointing…” Mina declared over the lurid sound of her mewling handmaiden mixed with masculine grunts. “I _thought_ there was something different about you Saiyans. I _thought_ the primitive beast in you would rise up when faced with our primitive elements, but you’re just as _weak_ as everyone else in the galaxy.” No response, but a protracted groan signified Turles’ release. The guardian scoffed. “At least one of us found satisfaction.”

Mina didn’t need him, or any man for that matter. No mere woman or agendered person would suffice, either. The only beings capable of receiving her element in its entirety and loving her back without fear or limitations were the ones just like her.


	4. From Here

Queen Serenity had arranged a luncheon with King Aethlios and King Vegeta. Their progeny would be in attendance as well, a fact that made Vegeta anxious because… he really wanted to see Usagi again. After their initial conversation at her brother’s boutique he found himself wishing they could talk more. At first he tried justifying his desire to seek her out as being purely beneficial to him. She was the princess of the solar system, so who better to tell him everything he wanted to know? But the last couple days had forced him to consider that he might have developed a hint of attraction to her. He thought about her constantly; her kind laughter, her pretty face, the way her eyes sparkled with happiness and contentment that he longed to obtain for himself… And there was her _aura_. Being in her presence made him feel like everything was going to be just fine, unless that was simply the “guardian of Hope” aspect she projected.

Regardless, Vegeta was ecstatic to be having lunch with her. And then he turned into a nervous wreck because he didn’t have anything good to wear. Tarble watched him try on every single piece of clothing he’d acquired so far. “You’re really going all-out to impress the Terrans, huh?”

“I couldn’t care less about them,” Vegeta replied without thinking.

“Queen Serenity, then?” His brother was suddenly tight-lipped. “No… you’re trying to impress _Usagi!_ ” No response. “I’m right, aren’t I? You like her, don’t you?” He hopped to his feet to needle Vegeta while he examined himself in the mirror. “I knew it! You think she’s pretty! You think she’s _lovely_ even though you made fun of me for saying it!”

“You’re acting like a child.” Or an observant younger sibling.

Tarble folded his arms, smug. “So is it an aura link?”

Vegeta scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. If I formed one with Usagi, I’d want to stay _away_ from her so as not to make a fool of myself.”

“Then you have an old-fashioned crush on her!”

“What do _you_ know about getting crushes on people? You’re only thirteen.”

Tarble elected to ignore that statement. “I _knew_ something was up when I found you talking to Usagi and Shingo. You were blushing so hard I saw it from the end of the hallway.”

“I was _not_ ,” Vegeta refuted more petulantly than intended, “and if I was, it’s because… you _saw_ them! Golden hair, blue eyes… Any Saiyan would’ve gone in for a closer look!”

It was almost a valid excuse. “Riiight. There are hundreds of thousands of Humans in this system with those genetics. Usagi’s hair color is called _cornsilk_ , by the way. And her eyes are _azure_.”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at him. “Why do you know that?”

Tarble shrugged. “I’m trying to learn the differences between all the species here. There’s a database where you can search for people based on the colors of their skin, hair, and eyes. The chromatic demographics are fascinating.”

“You’re the only Saiyan I’ve ever heard of who cares about things like that.”

“And you’re the only Saiyan I know who’d put this much effort into his appearance just to get attention from a _female_.”

Well, if it worked… 

Vegeta wasn’t dressing exclusively for Usagi’s approval. For the first time in his life he had the opportunity to wear _clothes_ instead of a _uniform_. He got to choose his own outfits instead of donning slight variations of what the Frieza had decreed all Saiyans should wear. It was liberating, and maybe he _was_ going a little bit overboard snapping up every garment that caught his eye, but it was only natural to project a bit of his personality through his attire. He may not have been a prince any longer, but he could certainly dress like his ideal version of one.

The fact that Usagi’s jaw dropped when Vegeta arrived on Terra with his family filled him with immense pride… and a surge of giddiness. “Who are you and what have you done with that scruffy Saiyan prince who arrived on Luna three days ago?” Usagi whispered while aides escorted them through Gaia Castle.

His confidence waned. “I wasn’t scruffy… was I?”

She tittered. “You were a _little_ scruffy, but I attribute that to living in a spaceship for however long it took you to get here. Now you look nice and polished.” She paused to study him, and he paused as well while the others continued. “That jacket seems like it was made for you. It’s not one of Shingo’s designs, is it?”

“I got it from ‘Crescent and Carbon’.”

“Ah, the Mautian boutique. I should’ve recognized their carbon fiber weave.” Before they caught up with their family members, she gave Vegeta’s posterior a double take. “Oh my god, that’s so cute!” she whispered excitedly. “There’s a gap for your tail!” Tarble glanced back and caught his brother blushing again. Usagi faltered once more, wringing her hands. “Umm… can I touch it?”

Vegeta blinked in surprise. “What, my tail?” She nodded. He looked at his father and brother before ducking into a little alcove. They’d be affronted if they saw what he was about to let her do. He turned his back on her, ignoring how his instincts shouted _“vulnerable!”_ “Don’t pull it.”

“I would never!” Usagi’s fingers curved around the base, making him shudder, and smoothed his fur all the way to the end. “Wow, it’s so soft. I thought it’d be coarse.” Vegeta had to close his eyes and count to five before he faced her, otherwise she’d be able to tell just how much he enjoyed her touch by observing his dopey visage. “Thanks,” she said, smiling shyly. “I just… couldn’t help myself. But we should catch up to the others.”

A brisk pace brought them to an archway leading to a balcony where King Aethlios and Prince Endymion awaited their guests. Vegeta, floating on cloud nine, nearly forgot his manners before offering a Saiyan greeting, hand over his heart. The Terrans bowed at the waist. “Welcome to our planet, Your Majesty, Highnesses.” The king had a rather sagely look about him owing to his chrome hair and shallow wrinkles. He was tall and slim, with downturned blue eyes and an aquiline nose. Endymion was also tall and leanly-muscled with black hair and dark blue eyes, but his facial features were sharper and more elongated. King Vegeta still loomed above everyone assembled, especially once they all sat down at a table.

“So…” Aethlios began, “what do you think of our solar system so far?”

“It’s vast,” Tarble replied. “There’s a lot to learn about the worlds and people.”

“In that same vein, I hope you permit us to learn all about _you_ ,” Aethlios said with a smile. “Your customs, history, language, anything and everything we can possibly preserve since you came so close to extinction. And I want you to know that we’ll do _everything_ in our power to prevent that from happening. You Saiyans deserve to live fully-accommodating lifestyles in the Sea.”

King Vegeta cleared his throat. “I hope you aren’t insinuating that we deserve special privileges because of our limited number.”

“That _is_ what my father is insinuating,” Endymion spoke, “but you three specifically are entitled to the same privileges that we have, being royalty.”

“We’re royalty in name only,” Vegeta returned. “We no longer have thrones to sit in or a castle to rule from.” Much less a species to govern.

Serenity donned a knowing smile. “What if we provided you with both?”

“Why would you?” the elder Vegeta asked at the same time the younger queried, “In exchange for what?”

“Remember when I told you how the number of refugees in the Sea has significantly increased over the last few years?” Usagi inquired of the princes. Of course they remembered; they’d never forget that first conversation.

Aethlios folded his hands matter-of-factly. “I’ll get right to the point. There are too many people in this solar system and not enough governing bodies, including the guardians and their administrators. We need another capable ruler to take on some of the responsibility.”

Vegeta and Tarble inhaled to comment at the same time, but their father raised a hand to silence them. He sat for a minute, studying the tabletop. “Why do you assume I’m a capable ruler?”

“You delivered your people from the clutches of a terrible fate, did you not?” Serenity broached.

The king shook his head once. “I had nothing to do with it. Another acted in the manner I could not. _He_ saved us.”

“That man sounds like someone you’d want as an advisor in your court,” Aethlios said.

King Vegeta’s deep brown eyes flicked to his sons. “I wouldn’t deprive him of the chance to spend every moment of his life with his loved ones.”

Usagi rested her dainty fingers on his much-larger hand. “Don’t sell yourself short, Your Majesty. Your people are still looking to you for guidance even though you think they’ve turned away. I know, I’ve seen them. The Saiyans are watching and waiting for you to decide their next course of action.”

Endymion followed up with, “You could very well lead them to inhabit a new version of Vegetasei.”

All three Saiyans appeared stricken. “ _What_ did you just say?” Vegeta spat.

Tarble glowered at the Terran prince. “If that’s your idea of a joke, it isn’t funny.”

“It’s not a joke!” Usagi floundered to assuage them. “We have the technology to build planets!”

“Then why haven’t you built them for the refugees?”

“Because we’re _going_ to take back Tankei from Shadow Galactica,” Aethlios declared. “Their worlds still physically exist… unlike yours.”

Bold words, yet effective ones. Endymion waited for their simmering to die down a bit. “It wouldn’t be a large world. Big enough for twelve Saiyans to live comfortably on, certainly.”

“It would become the second moon of Terra,” Serenity added. “We thought of naming it ‘Saiya’.”

Tarble huffed. “A satellite isn’t the same thing as a _planet_.”

“Well, no, but—”

King Vegeta abruptly stood and walked over to the balcony railing, gazing out across the vast expanse of green. Gaia Castle was the most isolated, self-contained administrative center in the whole Sea, surrounded by nothing more than the modest homes of everyone who worked in it. Things were eerily quiet, just like Saiya would be with only a dozen Saiyans on it. “It’s a generous offer…” he said, “but one I must decline.”

“Shouldn’t we discuss this, Father?” Vegeta refuted.

“No. We’re here because we squandered what we already had.” He faced Serenity. “Giving us everything we need to survive is more than enough. I can’t take further advantage of your hospitality.”

“What? But Father…” Tarble started to protest, trailing off when he finally noticed how _defeated_ the king appeared. He had always stood tall and proud, a paragon of what it meant to be Saiyan. He’d been a fierce warrior, an even fiercer lover of the late queen, and a man with the strength, wisdom, and fortitude to simultaneously govern an entire species and raise two boys without sacrificing his devotion to either. But now Tarble saw none of those qualities in his father, like King Vegeta III had perished alongside the majority of their people and the man overlooking the scenery was a ghost of his former self.

They finally got to the lunch part of the luncheon, but as soon as everyone finished eating, Aethlios laced his fingers beneath his chin to observe the Saiyan king. “I can’t say I expected you to decline our invitation to become the third ruling family of the Sea.”

A sigh. “I’m not the right man for the job.”

“You really don’t wish to preside over a world made exclusively for your people?”

“I don’t deserve it.” His sons shared an expression of barely-suppressed frustration.

“Then, have you decided which planet to reside on?” Serenity questioned.

“Here,” King Vegeta answered. “I’d like to live on Terra.” Where he could spend the remainder of his days in isolation accompanied by naught but his failures as a leader.

“I don’t _want_ to live on Terra!” Tarble proclaimed, slamming his palms on the table so hard the silverware jumped.

Everyone regarded him in surprise. “That’s fine, Son,” his father uttered. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions.” Tarble hedged. That wasn’t the reaction he anticipated.

“You only have two days left to register as citizens…” Usagi gently reminded them. “If you miss that deadline, you’ll go to the Kuiper Belt by default.” And survival would be even more difficult than it was for the Plutonians who were accustomed to life on the frontier.

“I’ll be sure to let my people know.” King Vegeta half-smiled. “Although, I suppose they’re _your_ people now. Treat them like you would anyone else. We don’t need special privileges.” He stood to leave, ducking his chin. “Thank you for the meal and your company.”

Vegeta and Tarble watched their father disappear into the castle. Should they go after him? Should they stay behind and override his decision to take on the responsibility of governing billions of people? As his heirs they had a right to inherit a throne, and if a new one could be built as easily as an entire habitable satellite, why shouldn’t they claim it?

“I don’t understand Father…” Tarble griped when they returned to Luna with Serenity and Usagi. “They offered to give us a new home world. Even if _he_ doesn’t think he deserves it, don’t the rest of us? We lost _everything._ ”

“So has every other non-native species in this system,” Vegeta pointed out. “Father is right– we don’t deserve special treatment.” He faced the queen and princess. “And it _is_ enough that you’ve accepted us with open arms. We’re beyond grateful.”

“You are most welcome,” Serenity replied, her passive features shifting to worry. “Where do you two wish to live if not with your father?”

“Mercury,” Tarble answered without hesitation.

Vegeta was more reserved. “Actually, Your Majesty… I wondered if I could stay here on Luna and… become your assistant or aide. Or even Usagi’s assistant!” he added as his cheeks flushed. Surely they thought the request audacious. “You said you needed help ruling the Sea, and even though my father thinks he’d be of no use, I… I know I would be! I am… I _was…_ a prince, so…” Until now, he’d spent his entire life preparing to inherit the responsibility of ruling a race spread across two planets. He knew diplomacy. He knew finance. He knew law. What did his scant years matter when he had the experience they sought?

Usagi stared at him, blinked once, and then grinned at her mother. Serenity hummed in consideration. “I think we would be very foolish to deny your request.”

By the grace of the gods he managed to keep his expression neutral. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I look forward to having your knowledge and opinions to draw upon.” Serenity curtsied. “Usagi-chan, please accompany them to the registration office.”

The girl waited until her mother left to direct a beaming smile at Vegeta. “You really want to work in the Lunarian government?”

“Yes. I believe it’s the best way to utilize my skills.” And the best way to get to know her better.

“Well, I can’t say we’re not grateful to have someone like you in our administration!” Usagi surprised both of the princes by hooking their arms with hers and pulling them along. “Come on, let’s get your citizen IDs!”

* * *

By the end of the Saiyans’ five-day grace period, only one remained uncertain of where to live. Bardock and Gine registered with Neptune’s moon Galatea, slotting perfectly into the resort culture by offering their services as masseur and masseuse. Spurred by his inescapable connection to Sailor Jupiter, Kakarot found himself on Europa since he wasn’t allowed to live on Io. Raditz, much to the surprise of everyone, got hired to guard the expeditionaries of Pluto, acquiring lavish accommodations on Nix. Paragus joined the Keepers faction of Saturn, based on Rhea, becoming the official chronologer of all things Saiyan. Both Broly and Nappa took up residence on Mars; the former general felt right at home training regiments of aspiring soldiers. Turles quickly carved out a niche for himself in the Dusk Souq of Venus despite his less-than-favorable interaction with the guardian. King Vegeta settled into an idyllic routine on Terra, secluding himself from just about everyone. Tarble landed a position as an apprentice xenologer on Mercury, and his brother donned a fancy white uniform denoting his prestigious status as an advisor to Queen Serenity.

That left Shallot staring at a screen listing his many options. How could there be so many planets in one solar system, anyway? How were most of them large enough to have more than one or two moons? His liege made it clear he wanted to be left alone, so Terra was off the table. Shallot stood there chewing on this thumb nail for so long that the registration clerk sighed and walked off to take her break. “You’re holding up the line,” came a voice from behind. The Saiyan spun around to find Sailor Galaxia smirking in amusement.

He frowned. “There isn’t a line.”

“I know. But if there were, you’d be holding it up.” She stood at his side, ignoring the distance he put between them. “It’s not that hard of a decision, you know. You can go anywhere you want, you just have to pick a world to have a home on. Oh, but I guess Io isn’t available after those brothers pissed off Makoto.”

“Who?”

“Sailor Jupiter,” Galaxia clarified, hemming and hawing. “Are there any particular skills you want to foster? What are you good at?”

“Nothing,” Shallot answered. The guardian raised a dubious eyebrow. “I was a rank-one cadet in the army. I’d only been assigned to Commander… I mean, _Bardock’s_ squad for one year before the Frieza attacked us.”

Galaxia gave him a once-over. “If you were a soldier then you at least know how to fight, right?”

“Kind of…” Shallot mumbled and fidgeted. “I don’t have good ki control.”

“Who needs ki when you have brute strength? Go to Mars. They’ll train you into a prize-winning gladiator in no time.”

“But Broly and Gen– Nappa are already there.” He was never going to get used to referring to his superiors without their titles.

“You’re right, that’s too many Saiyans in one place.” Galaxia surveyed the list. “Mercury is still annoyed with you, so that’s not a wise choice. What about Venus? Do you like sex?” The blunt inquiry bewildered him. “Women all over the system are talking about how attractive you Saiyans are, and on Venus they’ll pay to sleep with you.”

“I don’t… I’m not…” Shallot stammered, turning as red as a cherry. Hearing about how he’d soon begin developing into an adult from Gine had been _so_ awkward, but at least he knew what to expect. “Venus is Turles’ territory,” he ended up saying. “I don’t want to get on his bad side like Broly.”

“Okay, how about another moon of Jupiter?” Galaxia suggested.

“I almost _died_ there,” he countered. “Besides, Kakarot might see me as competition.”

“Competition for what?” He only shook his head. The less people who knew what Saiyans went through during puberty, the better. “Fine. Do you have any hang-ups regarding Saturn?”

“They’re not my type of people. I’m not an academic.”

Now Galaxia was getting annoyed with his indecisiveness. “You’re the pickiest person I’ve ever seen come through this embassy! What about Uranus?”

“What _about_ Uranus?”

“You know how to fly spaceships, don’t you?”

Shallot gave a self-deprecating scoff. “I’m better at crashing them.”

“The fact that you didn’t land that shuttle in Jupiter’s ocean means you have skill.” He wasn’t convinced. “Uranus is the center of aeronautics in the Sea,” Galaxia explained. “They’re always building new models and there aren’t enough pilots to test them. We Humans don’t need to know how to fly ships because we use portals to get around, but the refugees from Tankei arrived by vessel. Most of the pilots were so shaken by what they went through that they retired. There are still some who make ‘suicide runs’ to rescue resistance fighters and prisoners of war from Shadow Galactica, but they’re few and far between.” Her visage softened. “Doing something as simple as testing a ship against the kinds of weapons Galactica uses will help the engineers make them stronger and more maneuverable, which makes the rescue runs less suicidal.”

Shallot’s tail swished back and forth as he mulled it over. All Saiyans had the ability to fly soon after they were born, but they couldn’t survive in the vacuum of space and depended on capable vessels for mass transport between Frieza-occupied planets. Piloting was a thankless yet essential job that he got assigned to because of his lackluster fighting talent, but he _had_ learned from the best of the best and Bardock was also a strong warrior in his own right. Maybe Shallot could be a test flyer until he finished growing, when he transformed into a capable fighter by virtue of biology, and then he’d find something else to do with his life.

Before he could overthink things too much, he registered for citizenship with the moon of Oberon. “There,” he grumbled at the clerk, “happy?” She looked relieved.

“ _Your_ happiness is what matters,” Galaxia said, “but if you end up not liking Uranus, remember that you can seek out opportunities elsewhere. Oberon will only be where your physical house stands. Home is wherever you choose to let your heart put down roots.”

“Home was Sadala.” Still, it was a nice sentiment. Shallot accepted his ID in the form of a nanochip before facing the guardian. “Now what?”

“Now you visit the housing authority of Uranus. And it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to the guardian, Haruka.”

“Haruka…” Another weird name. Shallot grunted. “Thanks for helping me decide, Your, um, Radiance.”

Galaxia made a face of distaste. “Don’t call me that. I didn’t like it when your king called me that.” He stared at her expectantly. “You can use the formal ‘Your Guardianship’ but that’s almost too much for me. Just call me ‘Taiga’.”

“Taiga.” Two syllables were easy to say.

She lifted a hand in farewell and phased away. “Enjoy your new life, Saiyan.”

Shallot’s first week on Oberon passed without any major incidents. The moon was covered in numerous deep pits lined with ice, and a single mountain jutted up from the surface. Most of the main metropolis had been carved out of the ice and rock, resulting in a confusing system of tunnels and caves. There were also minarets and spires branching off the mountain to create the illusion of a city floating in the clouds. Shallot moved in to one of the lofts since they weren’t as popular as the subterranean homes and there were fewer neighbors to bother him. When he finally mustered the courage to visit the engineering hub, he was surprised by the large scale of the operation. Oberon was the _ideal_ moon for conducting test flights due to its flat, unobstructed surface.

“You gonna stand there gawking all day,” someone called out to him, “or are you here to make yourself useful?” Shallot locked eyes with a willowy figure. At his distance he couldn’t tell if they were male or female, but once they approached he noticed a small swell of breasts. She had long white hair bound in a ponytail and pale green eyes. “Oh, you’re one of those _Saiyans_ I’ve heard so much about. What’re you doing here?”

She towered over him even as he hovered above the ground. “I heard you Uranians needed test pilots.”

“Fancy yourself an aerial ace, do you? You seem awfully young.” She gave his feet a pointed look. “And what would a species that can fly know about spacecraft, anyway?”

Shallot lifted his chin. “I know how to not crash into Jupiter’s metal ocean.”

“Really.” She seemed dubious yet impressed, arching a platinum brow. “Okay, Saiyan, I’ll put you in a simulation.” Shallot followed her to a strange metal rig lined with shimmery tiles. “You’re gonna do the Jovian obstacle course with specs from one of our production models. Sit down and put this on.” He slipped a visor over his head, watching her fingers fly across the control panel. “You’ve experienced augmented reality before, right?”

“No…”

“Oh. Just relax, okay? It’ll feel real, but remember that it isn’t. It’s just sensors affecting your brain.” He tried not to appear as nervous as he now felt. “Show me what you can do, Saiyan.”

“My name is Shallot,” he said as the tiles began to flicker with kaleidoscopic colors.

“And I’m Yaten,” the woman replied in kind. “Good luck!”

Suddenly he was plummeting through the storm clouds of Jupiter, just like the first time he fell victim to its magnetic pull. The control panel was not one of Saiyan design but he somehow knew which buttons and levers did what; maybe the rig had transferred the knowledge to him. He leveled out the vessel and found it had more than enough power to resist the pull, making it a lot easier to steer toward a flashing ring in the sky. Shallot assumed he was supposed to fly through it. Another ring appeared some distance away, then another and another. He maneuvered over the craggy mountains, through a treacherous canyon lined with falling rocks, and dodged arcing bolts of lightning. The last ring forced him to invert, providing the totally real sensation of his stomach flip-flopping. The simulation ended as quickly as it began; he blinked and returned to the spaceship hangar where Yaten removed the visor.

“You’ve got skills, Shallot,” she praised. “One-third of our testers can’t even complete that course.”

“Really?” He stood and stretched, feeling like he’d been confined to a cockpit. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“It’s not real, either,” Yaten pointed out. “We aren’t designing ships for their ability to do barrel rolls, we’re building them to withstand plasma and railgun blasts while depositing soldiers in active combat zones.” His smug smile faded. “None of these vessels will return from Tankei unless people like you put them through their paces and offer meaningful feedback.” She proffered her tablet, showing off a familiar schematic. “The Mercurians were nice enough to scan that transport vessel of yours into the solar system database, so we’re going to work on some new designs incorporating its features. I’ll make sure you get the initial prototype flight.”

“How long will it take to build?” Shallot wondered.

“Two, three weeks at most.”

“So what should I do until then?”

Yaten shrugged one shoulder. “Sit at home, pick your nose, fly other vessels… Just don’t get in the way of the engineers.”

Shallot cast his gaze about, landing on a ship painted a vibrant red. Its sleek triangular shape was vastly different from the Frieza’s rotund saucers and pods. “Where’s this from? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Yaten considered it for a long, somber moment. “This is a fighter craft from Kinmoku, my home planet. It was supposed to deliver our queen to safety by outrunning Galactica’s drones, but… she didn’t make it.”

“It doesn’t _look_ damaged,” he observed.

“Because she ejected herself before they shot it down. Kakyuu-sama gave herself up so her aerial guard –me and two others– could make it to the Sea.” The woman bit out her next words. “Wasted sacrifice, if you ask me. I’m the only one _doing something_ to save her while Seiya and Taiki screw around on Neptune and Pluto…” She shook her head violently, as if banishing her thoughts. “But who needs layabouts when there are young go-getters like you?”

Shallot smiled a little, drifting down one half of the hangar while dodging cords, metal shavings, and showers of sparks before coming up the other side. So much spacecraft, so many intriguing designs. Would any of them have made a difference against the Frieza? Would more Saiyans have been able to escape, or would they have been able to fight back? It wasn’t really pertinent to focus on what-ifs when their conflict was over and done with. From now on Shallot would be contributing to the Tankei liberation effort in his own small way. Maybe after he recommended a change to the hull plating or propulsion system, Yaten would take that hybrid Saiyan ship and rescue her queen from Shadow Galactica.

Or… maybe Shallot could journey to Tankei _with_ her and become a hero in his own right. A potential opportunity loomed on the horizon after the guardians of Uranus and Neptune met to discuss the feasibility of organizing a large-scale assault against Galactica along with Sailor Pluto. Despite being one of the youngest celestial warriors in the Sea at age fourteen, she possessed prodigal talent for harnessing her abilities relating to the forces of time and death. She stated that she would stand with the guardians of the outer Sea if Saturn was also joining them.

“And there’s the wrench,” Yaten commented when the news stream ended. Shallot didn’t have to ask her to explain since her assumption that he knew nothing of Serene politics was accurate. “Saturn also lost their guardian during the last big battle, but the new girl is the youngest celestial warrior in history– she’s only twelve years old. There’s a positive correlation between a guardian’s age and their grasp on their elements and aspects. Needless to say, Saturn won’t be sending a child to Tankei any time soon.”

“Which means Pluto won’t support Uranus and Neptune,” Shallot deduced. “Will they still go?”

“Hard to say for certain. The planets have close ties– I’m pretty sure all of their collaborative efforts have been successful. But Galactica gets stronger every day, so two guardians and their combined army isn’t going to loosen their hold on anything. Be a waste of resources and bodies.”

He thought for a moment. “Is it only the standing army that goes with? What about volunteer fighters?”

Yaten gave a dry laugh. “Oh, to be young, naïve, and not native to this part of the galaxy… The _only_ position they recruit volunteers for is piloting, and people _only_ accept because the inevitability of getting shot down becomes more of a high probability while Galactica’s shooting at the guardians.” She raised an eyebrow, the judgy one. “I know what you’re thinking– ‘they wouldn’t bring me down’. Maybe, maybe not, but it doesn’t matter anyway ‘cause you’re a member of an endangered species.”

Shallot regarded her narrowly. “So?”

 _“So,”_ she said, flicking the tip of his nose, “you’re on a watch list. The king and queen aren’t going to let you leave the Sea, especially to engage Shadow Galactica! Corvids aren’t allowed to leave, either, and there’s about a thousand of them left.”

He smacked her hand aside. “That can’t be right. I’m one of the people trying to make it so these personnel carriers _don’t_ get shot down, so I should be allowed to fight after landing one!”

“Who do you think’s gonna bring everyone _back_ from Tankei if all the pilots get killed?!”

Shallot opened his mouth to refute her but then closed it, balling his hands into fists. Now he was more upset by finding out that the Saiyans were confined to the solar system. It was a big cage but a cage nonetheless, and no one had so much as _mentioned_ putting him on a watch list! “That bitch lied to me…” he growled.

“Which bitch?”

“Taiga… Sailor Galaxia!” Yaten’s eyes widened but not for the reason Shallot thought. “She said I could make a difference if I came here. She said being a test flyer would _help_ people!” He wanted nothing more than to feel useful, to prove that he wasn’t a liability to anyone.

The woman placed a hand on his shoulder. “You _are_ helping people, Shallot, but can we back up for a second? How do you know Sailor Galaxia’s Human name?”

He calmed down a little. “She told me to call her that.”

“She _told_ you?” Her green gaze seemed to study some invisible equation, arriving at a tentative solution. “That’s weird. People aren’t really _supposed_ to know the guardians’ names. Except Usagi-hime, of course. Everyone knows she’s Sailor Moon.”

“So what?”

“So…” Yaten looked him several times over. “There’s something _special_ about you Saiyans, isn’t there? Some hidden potential the guardians can sense. Have you met Sailor Uranus yet?” He answered in the negative. “Do me a favor and visit her in Miranda Castle.” If after that meeting the guardians decided to go ahead with their campaign, Yaten’s suspicions would be confirmed.

Shallot respected the Kinjin woman enough to oblige her request. He took the portal from Oberon to Miranda and received swift admission to the castle where he was promptly thrown for a loop. The exterior was innocuous enough, but the interior felt like being in an enormous machine. Gears, cogs, pistons and shafts moved with quiet, fluid precision. He feared he’d get caught in the myriad moving parts if his feet left the ground, and he’d surely get lost without an aide guiding him.

The machinery gave way to a wide-open courtyard. The cerulean sky overhead was so bright that it nearly blinded Shallot, but once his eyes adjusted he spotted a figure who reminded him of Yaten, the key differences being her aura and her short, pale blonde hair. Sailor Uranus turned toward him, observing him from afar with her vivid blue eyes. When they met his, he felt as if someone injected him with pure adrenaline. Suddenly his heart pounded a mile a minute, his palms grew sweaty and tingly, and something clenched low in his gut. _“Shit…”_ he breathed, trying not to let his knees buckle. Gine told him about this. Raditz suspected this would happen. It already _had_ happened to Kakarot. Perhaps noticing the jerky way in which he moved, Sailor Uranus glided over and alighted with more grace than any Saiyan ever possessed. “Y-you can… fly?” Shallot stuttered.

She raked her fingers through her hair, an extremely attractive gesture. “Naturally. I’m the Guardian of Wind and the Heavens.” Haruka leaned forward so they were of even height. “And which of the twelve Saiyans are you?”

“Sh-Shallot.” Gods, he couldn’t stop checking out her legs. They went _all_ the way up and her shorts were really short.

“Shallot. Cute name.” She returned to the middle of the courtyard where she attacked Human-shaped targets with a slender blade.

He approached cautiously. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing swordplay. One can never have too many options when it comes to combating Shadow Galactica.” With a swift slash she decapitated one of the dummies, smirking. “The next trophy we bring back is going to be Zirconia’s wrinkled, balding head.”

“Next time you go to Tankei…” Shallot blurted before he could stop himself, “I want to fight with you!” Actually, he never wanted to leave her side from this moment on. “Please let me go with you, Haruka! Can’t you tell the king and queen that I should be allowed to leave the Sea? I’m a pilot, I can help you! I’ll fly your soldiers to and from Tankei, and—”

In the blink of an eye she had whirled around and placed the tip of her sword beneath his chin, shutting him up. He swallowed his nerves as she scrutinized him; callousness and arrogance swam in those beautiful eyes. “I didn’t peg you Saiyans for simpering fools.” He said nothing, didn’t move an inch. “We guardians know you’re attracted to power, but that doesn’t mean you should be desperate for our approval, for _validation_. If you base your worth on someone else’s opinions, you’ll never reach your full potential.” The sword fell to her side and Shallot exhaled. “I can’t override the royal decree restricting Saiyans to the Sea.”

He searched her countenance, defeated. “There’s nothing you can do?”

“I didn’t say that.” One corner of her lips turned up. “If you were to earn a _favor_ from one of us guardians, it might supersede royal authority.”

“A favor…” King Vegeta mentioned something about those during their conversation in the hospital. Shallot squared his shoulders. “How do I earn a favor from you?”

Her smile widened as she came so close their noses nearly touched. A flood of hormones made his head reel and his pants uncomfortably tight. Breathing her aura-tinged air affected him in a manner neither Gine nor Raditz could’ve helped him prepare for.

“You can try besting me in a duel,” Haruka answered.


End file.
